


Stay With Me

by Action Kitty (Lyra_87)



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Infidelity, Mental Health Issues, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 28
Words: 71,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyra_87/pseuds/Action%20Kitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a failed suicide attempt, Grace Cassidy is forced into a Therapist's office by her boyfriend Frank. Can a stranger help her live her life again? Or will his own demons drag both of them down?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
The waiting room was cold and sterile, something I appreciated right then. The walls were painted in a boring beige colour, and the dark brown faux leather couches were comfortable enough to sit in but not quite enough to make you feel at home. The sturdy, dark brown coffee table in the centre of the room was littered with old, wrinkled magazines, which ranged from woman’s gossip magazines to National Geographic. I tried to stop my body from shaking as I sat, my eyes wondering around the room in panic as I forced myself to remain seated. I promised Frank I would go through with the meeting, even if it killed me. He didn’t appreciate my humour when I said that.

The thought of Frank makes my stomach churn uncomfortably. He was the main reason I’m stuck here in this waiting room, feeling like my heart was about to burst through my chest and my lungs are going to burn out from the lack of proper oxygen. I try to force the memories of last Friday out of my mind, but my brain is punishing me by making it the only thing I can think about. I could still smell the blood and taste the salty tears that had run down my cheeks that evening, and when I closed my eyes the scene replayd for me.  
  
I couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing HIM at my Mother’s birthday party was the final nail in the coffin that was my broken sanity. My breathing was rushed and painful as I tried to push the memories of the pain and hate deep down inside where they had remained for so long, but it no longer worked. Since the party five days ago I could feel all the anguish come flooding back, the self loathing and helplessness that I had managed to hide all these years had manifested to the point where I couldn’t hide from it any more. After all these years of avoiding seeing him again, he proved that he still had power over me. Bringing my boyfriend had led me into a false sense of security; it made me believe that I was protected. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough to stop him. It was his mission in life to destroy everything I was, and he took pleasure in it even now. I would never be free of him. Those were the words he spoke to me, and he proved it that night when he cornered me. He would never let me be, because even if I stayed out of his presence I would never escape my past. He destroyed my teenage years, and with it he stole my future. Everything I did revolved around him and what he did to me. I would never be free.  
  
My boyfriend could see something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell him the truth. He wouldn’t believe me, I knew he wouldn’t. I had been told again and again that it was his word against mine, and who would people believe. The quiet little girl who use to lie to get attention after her father’s death and mother’s subsequent re-marriage, or the straight ‘A’ grade jock who was on the student council. The answer was obvious. Even though I was twenty five it was still true. He had built himself a successful career after college, while I managed to get myself a decent job in a lawyer’s office. Compared to him, I was a disappointment. So I kept it all inside, but it wouldn’t stay below the surface anymore.  
  
The cold steel of the razor blade was calling me again. My skin craved its touch again, my sub consciousness cried for the relief it use to bring me during the years of abuse. I had stopped while in college, when the habit became harder to hide while sharing a dorm with other people. Instead, I learnt to crush it down under the weight of college work and drinking parties. By the time I had finished the habit was long gone. Until now.  
  
My hands shook as I wringed them together, my breaths were coming out in whimpers as I tried to calm down and ignore the siring need in my body for the once much loved release. The voice inside my head was telling me that there was a way out of this, there was only one way of freeing myself from him and the hold he still had over me. It was in the bathroom cabinet, innocently placed among the beauty products, toiletries and medicines. It would be so easy to take all the pain away. Nobody would miss me. My mother might grieve for me for a short while, but her remarriage six months after my father’s death had proved that she could move on quickly. Frank would be better off, he could find someone who wasn’t fucked up and broken. I was damaged beyond repair, and he was perfect. I don’t deserve him, and I was a fool to think that I would ever be worthy of his love.  
  
I didn’t remember dragging my feet from the living room to the bathroom. I didn’t remember staring at my reflection in the mirror before opening the doors of the cabinet. I didn’t remember seeing the razor blade, or grabbing the plastic handle and breaking it to free the steel blades. But I did remember the rush I felt when I dragged it along the vein and felt the stinging pain. I remembered with vivid detail the red colour as it rose to the surface and stained my skin, which seemed so vibrant and alive. I remember the blue colour of my vein being marred by the blade as I made short little cuts at first. It was as though I was testing if my body could still take the pain. It didn’t just take the pain; it relished in it. The air that left my lungs almost sounded like my body was in the throes of ecstasy. Once I started I couldn’t stop. The short sharp cuts became longer and deep, and suddenly it no longer became about temporary relief. I wanted the blood to keep on pouring out of my dirty body; I wanted my soul to be freed from the torture it had endured for the last thirteen years. The tears poured down my cheeks as I tightened my hold on the thin blade, and with delicacy and precision I pressed and dragged it from my wrist to the crook of my arm. I repeated it on my other arm before I curled up on the linoleum floor.  
  
I was unconscious when Frank arrived into our apartment, calling out my name and hearing no response. He searched the kitchen and bedroom before checking the bathroom. If I had been awake I would have seen the colour drain from his face and his perfect round hazel eyes widen in shock at the sight of his girlfriend cut up and bleeding in a pool of her own blood. I would have watched as he dialled 911 and spoke to the operator with panic and fear in his voice. I would have felt how he clutched by body helplessly and cried while he waited for the paramedics to arrive. He only left my side to open the door for them when they pounded on the wooden door with urgency. He followed me into the ambulance and stared at them with disbelief as they put an oxygen mask on me and tried to stop the bleeding. He winced when I was deemed out of immediate danger and strapped to the hospital bed in a private room, where he sat on a chair all night and watched me sleep while my body recovered from the blood loss and blood transfusion.  
  
When they released me the next evening after the obligatory twenty four hour watch, during which they forced me to sit with a psychiatrist who tried to get me to talk, he held my hand as we got a cab home. He sat me on the couch while he cleaned up my blood in the bathroom, and gave me a cup of coffee to sip on when he came back. He didn’t make me talk that night, instead he held me when I began to sob in pain. It wasn’t until the following day he told me that in no uncertain terms, I was going to talk to somebody. He begged and pleaded with me to tell him why I did it, he wanted to ‘understand what I was thinking’. The words were lost in my throat and I couldn’t speak, I could do nothing but stare at him with wide tearful eyes that pleaded with him to drop it. I knew it hurt him that I wouldn’t talk to him, but I didn’t want him to know the truth about me, about how dirty I was. His voice became hard and cold when he informed me I was going to see a therapist the next day. I tried to tell him that it wasn’t necessary, that I was okay but he wouldn’t have it. He begged me to go, to give him some piece of mind. He gazed at me with helpless, puppy dog eyes that filled my conscience with guilt. After what I had put him through, he deserved that much. So I agreed.

My trip down memory lane was broken by the sound of a door opening, followed by the shuffling of feet. My unfocused eyes land on the source of the noise, to find it was a man. In order to distract myself from the meeting I was about to have I took him in with unblinking eyes. He stood at around 5’8, with raven black hair that was slightly too long. His eyes appeared to be a light brown colour, but it was hard to tell when he wasn’t looking at me. He was clothed in jeans and black jacket. He sat down on the couch opposite me without as much as a glance in my direction. I looked away from him before he could catch me staring. I assumed he was here to see one of the other two therapists in the practice. My legs were twitching in nervousness, and my breathing was becoming erratic. I didn’t want to do this. I couldn’t do this. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on Frank, and the pleading look he gave me when he begged me to come here. I didn’t want to let him down, but I didn’t know if I could open up after all these years of keeping everything inside. It was too much to ask. He didn’t realise just what he was asking of me, he couldn’t see that I wasn’t ready for this. He saw a problem and thought this was the solution.

‘Hey, are you okay?’

The voice made me open my eyes. They were met with a kind pair of golden hazel eyes, which were filled with empathy. My throat seized up on me, so I responded my shaking my head.

‘Is this your first time coming here?’

I gave a curt nod. A smile of understanding appeared on his face.

‘I remember my first time coming here. I was a wreck; I was shaking worse than you are now. That was six months ago. The first session is the hardest, but once you start talking you’ll feel better. Trust me. Just open up, be honest and everything will be fine. Who are you here to see?’ his voice was soothing; the New Jersey drawl was easing my fragile nerves. I knew what he was trying to do and I was grateful.

‘Dr. Manning’ I whispered.

The man nodded.

‘She’s good, you’re in good hands.’

He was about to say more but he was cut when the door to one of the offices opened, revealing a short blonde hair woman with glasses.

‘Grace Cassidy?’ she smiled at me, trying to seem harmless and welcoming.

I wasn’t fooled for one second. I looked at the man with frightened eyes, silently pleading for him to somehow save me. I wasn’t ready for this. I never would be. Right now all my instincts were telling me to bolt out of the room and run away I couldn’t talk to her, she wouldn’t understand me. Nobody could.

‘It’s okay’ he whispered, giving me a reassuring smile.

Somehow it made it feel better, and it gave me hope. I thought about what he had told me, about how he was a mess when he came here. He said things will get better right? He was here, and he seemed to be doing okay. Could that be me in six months? The only thing I knew for sure was that I would never know if I didn’t try. I nodded at him and took in a deep breath, before standing up and following the blonde woman into her room. Before I reached the door I turned around, and found he was still looking at me.

‘Thank you’ I mouthed, before crossing the threshold to face my fears.

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

  
When I walked into the office itself, finding that it was rather…homely I suppose was the right word. There were two small couches, but both were old and worn looking. Not necessarily dirty or in disrepair, but it was the kind you’d find in your grandmother’s house. I barely had time to take in the warm brown tone of the wallpaper, in contrast to the light brown wood desk that was situated close to the window. Beside the desk stood a large, metal file cabinet that made me apprehensive when I looked at it. Would I be a file in there too, something to be pulled apart and dissected like an equation that needed to be solved? How could I talk to somebody who probably just saw me as nothing other than pay check? She wouldn’t care, not really. My problems, my past, they didn’t affect her. They didn’t give her nightmares, or haunt her every waking moment. Why am I even here?

‘Take a seat, please’ I was instructed kindly by the doctor, which I followed wordlessly.

‘So, Miss Cassidy…’ the doctor spoke as she sat down and made herself comfortable on the couch opposite me ‘…My name is Doctor Manning, but I’d prefer it if you called me Nina. I spoke to your boyfriend on the phone this morning. He seemed rather…concerned for you.’

I nodded blankly at her, before realising she was probably waiting for me to say something. Fuck, how am I supposed to do this?

‘I um…I…kind of…attempted suicide on Friday night.’

The words felt strange out of my mouth. In saying them, I was finally admitting what I did. It made it all so real to me. By keeping silent I’d avoided the harsh truth of what I had done and what it meant. I had tried to end it all, and somehow the gravity of the situation was only hitting me now. If I had succeeded I would be dead right now.

‘That’s a pretty drastic step. I can see you’re nervous, but I’m here to help. I’m not going to force you to speak to me or tell me anything you don’t wish to talk about, but in order for us to work together it would be a great benefit to you if you open up. It’s not something I expect is going to happen today, but while you are here today I would like to perhaps start the ground work. Perhaps you can just tell me a little bit about yourself?’

‘Okay’ I took a deep breath.

‘Um, well, my name is Grace obviously. I’m twenty five. I work here in the city as a legal secretary. I live with my boyfriend Frank. My father died when I was twelve, and my mother remarried shortly afterwards. I did okay in school I suppose, I never caused any trouble. I have a group of friends that I see regularly so I’m a social person. Uh…I’m not sure what else to say, really.’

‘Okay, we’ll start from there. Tell me about your boyfriend.’

‘Frank? He’s…amazing. I met him when I was in college, we hit it off straight away but I was hesitant about getting involved with him at first. He kept on hanging around though, and eventually I said yes when he asked me on a date. That was six years ago.’

‘You obviously love him, I can tell by the smile on your face’ she observed with a smile on her face.

‘I do, he means the world to me.’

‘Young love’ Nina said, the smile still on her face. ‘You said you were hesitant at first, why is that?’

I didn’t answer straight away. The silence lingered for a few seconds before I broke it.

‘I didn’t think that I was good enough for him. I still don’t.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

I shook my head in denial.

‘No it’s true…he doesn’t know how dirty I am. He doesn’t know the truth about me.’

Nina seemed to hesitate before she leaned forward slightly, her expression suddenly serious.

‘What is the truth Grace?’

‘That I’m broken…dirty.’

‘Why would you think that?’

‘Because he told me.’

‘Frank?’ she asked in confusion.

‘No’ I shook my head ‘Nick.’

‘Who’s Nick, Grace?’

‘My stepbrother.’

Nina stilled, and I could practically see her brain clicking as some of the pieces fell into place for her.

‘Grace…did your brother, stepbrother I mean…did he hurt you?’ her voice was quiet, as though she was talking to a caged, frightened animal that was ready to attack. She wasn’t far off the truth as the adrenaline started pumping through my body, going into fight or flight mode. I was absolutely terrified of the way she leaned in closer to me, the way her kind eyes were boring into mine as she saw the truth in my body language. I wanted to run, my hands gripping the couch in panic and desperation. I didn’t want to say it; the words were too painful to speak out loud. But for once, just once, I wanted to let someone know what had happened to me. To let someone in, let them know why I was the way I was. I wanted someone to believe me. Something inside me shut down, protecting me from the words I was about to speak.

‘He raped me, nearly every night, for four years. I was twelve when it started.’

The words were cold, detached. They didn’t sound like they had come from me, but the nod of understanding Nina gave me let me know that I had said it.

‘I’m sorry Grace. I’m sorry you went through that.’

It wasn’t the words that set me off, but the tone of empathy behind them. I broke down in sobs, as I felt a dam somewhere in my mind burst as I finally spoke the words I held inside for long. I finally heard the words I needed to hear for the last thirteen years. She pushed a box of tissues towards me but made no other move to comfort me. She understood that I needed to calm myself down before I could continue; any move on her part would just make me cry harder. It took me the best part of ten minutes to calm down enough to be able to speak again.

‘Did your mother know about the abuse?’ Nina asked gently.

‘No’ I shook my head slowly ‘My mother and I didn’t have the best relationship. When my father died we drifted apart. It got worse when she remarried. I started lying a lot to get attention, just about small things really but I was afraid she wouldn’t believe me if I told her. I didn’t want to ruin her happiness either. George, my stepfather, he was good to her and me. She deserved to have someone who made her happy.’

Nina nodded, leaning back on her couch.

‘Do you still think she wouldn’t believe you if you told her now?’

‘I don’t know…we don’t speak too often so it’s hard to judge.’

‘Do you still see your stepbrother?’

‘Until last weekend I hadn’t seen him in close to four years.’

‘I assume seeing your stepbrother is connected to what happened last Friday?’

‘It was my mother’s birthday party, it was just a small one in her house…Nick cornered me when I went to the bathroom. He…he put his hand up my dress, told me that he could still have me any time he wanted. My stepfather interrupted so he didn’t get any further but it just made me feel so worthless. Even after all these years he can still get to me. I couldn’t fight him off.’

‘It’s not your fault Grace. He cornered you unexpectedly, and assuming he’s a fully grown adult he had you at a disadvantage.’

‘I should’ve been able to fight him off, I should have hit him, bit him, done _something_ but I couldn’t. I froze, and I felt like I was fucking twelve years old again.’

‘Grace, you were frightened. People react in different ways when confronted with something they find distressing. Some will fight for self preservation, and some of us freeze. Your reaction was normal considering your circumstances. Don’t be blaming yourself for that.’

‘Maybe you’re right, but it still angers me that after all these years he still has power over me. He can hurt me, and I’ll never be able to be able to live my life without the fear he’ll came after me. It’s why I tried to…do what I did…on Friday. I just wanted it to end. I wanted the pain, and the fear, and the misery to go away. I just wanted it to go away.’

I ended up crying again, but this time I didn’t try to hold them back. I didn’t try to stop them, or shorten their duration. For the first time in my life, I let myself cry all the tears of pain that had been built up over the years. I let myself wallow in the misery, because as I sat there I realised that Nina didn’t mind if I cried. Nina wasn’t angry, or distressed, or annoyed over my tears. She didn’t threaten me with violence if I was too loud. She didn’t make me feel bad for being upset. She let me be free to express my emotions the way I needed to. Looking at her through my tear filled eyes, I realised that she was offering me something that had been withheld from me for a very long time.

She was offering me freedom to be myself.  



	3. Chapter Three

  
I left the office at the end of the hour, feeling lighter and less afraid then when I had stepped inside. The guy I'd met in the waiting room had been right. I felt a sudden gratitude towards him, because I knew if it wasn’t for him and his words of encouragement I would have been too terrified to speak as honestly as I did. I would have frozen up in my fear and not gotten any relief from the hour I spent with Nina. I wanted thank him. I stood in the waiting area for five minutes, hoping to see him come out. If anyone had come in I would have looked strange, anxiously fidgeting with my coat but I was too busy focusing on other things to worry about it. So what if they thought I was weird, if they were coming in here that meant they were too in one way or another. It was a comfort to realise that I probably wasn’t the craziest person who came in. Maybe I wasn’t alone in my suffering; maybe there were others who could understand my pain. The reason I was standing like a stalker waiting for a man I didn’t know was because a part me wanted to believe that maybe he could understand me, or at least had gone through something so terrible himself that he could empathise. So I waited, like an idiot in the empty cold room for as long as I could stand it. My patience wore thin after that, knowing my luck he was probably already gone. I had made an appointment for the same day next week so I could thank him then assuming he kept to the same time every week. I fastened my coat and made my way out of the building with brisk steps, fully aware that Frank would probably be anxious to hear how it went. I wasn’t ready to tell him what I had revealed to Nina but the fact I was willing to go back would hopefully reassure him that I was on the right path. I walked down the narrow wooden staircase that would take me to the front door of the building, and to my delight and trepidation I could make out a figure standing in the doorway, smoking a cigarette. He was busy watching the busy street so he didn’t notice me as I stepped down the stairs with lighter steps. I took my time walking towards him, using the time to take his features in again.

He was a very handsome man I decided. His skin was pale in an ‘I’m not sick, I just never see the sun’ kind of way. It suited him though; any tan would have marred the beauty of his skin in my eyes. His hair stopped just below his ears, curling at the bottom which suggested it was overdue for a cut. His lashes were long and dark, framing his large eyes. His posture was terrible; he hunched his shoulders slightly making him appear an inch or so smaller than he was. He was casually dressed, but he still looked well in his jacket and jeans that fit his frame perfectly. He wasn’t skinny by any means but he didn’t appear to carry any extra weight. He looked healthy as he leaned against the door frame. From his side profile I could see just how pixie like his nose was, perfectly straight and small. His jaw line was quite soft, almost feminine but it made him more beautiful. He would never suit a beard or a mustache; his face was far too young and boyish to ever pull it off successfully. I enjoyed my secret staring far more than I should have. It went beyond curiosity; I suppose creeping was a better word for it. I shouldn’t have let myself get so drawn in but I rarely took notice in members of the opposite gender so when I did I _really_ took notice. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find him attractive. He was pale with dark skin and dark eyes; by virtue of being the opposite of my blond haired blue eyed tanned stepbrother he was automatically my type. He made my blood race the way Frank did when we first met. He still did even after six years, especially when he roamed around our apartment shirtless and gave me a good view of the myriad of tattoos that littered his body. I wondered if this guy had tattoos, maybe some hidden in places that only someone intimately acquainted with him could see.

I deliberately treaded the last step with a heavy step to draw his attention to my presence. It worked; he pivoted to watch my descent from the last step and my slow, anxious steps towards him. I could make out the colour of his eyes now; the hazel irises were guarded and observant as he eyed me with curiosity and possibly nervousness too. He threw his cigarette out onto the street with a careless flick of his wrist, not caring where it landed. He didn’t appear to be as calm as he was in the waiting room. I wondered if it was because of me that he was looking so insecure and vulnerable. I mentally slapped myself at the thought, whether I made or nervous or not didn’t matter. I had a boyfriend I loved dearly who was good to me, and I was loyal to him in every way. The fact that I found this stranger so attractive and enticing made me sick with guilt when I thought about how Frank would feel if he knew.

‘Hey’ his soft voice broke the silence when I reached the door.

‘Hi’ I looked at my feet when I spoke to him, too self conscious to meet his eyes. It was a nervous habit I had learned to break but in times of severe nervousness I still found myself reverting back to it. Whether I wanted to or not, this guy definitely made me a little nervous. If he made me nervous it meant that I would care what he thought of me, which was the last thing I needed. I had enough people to try and please in this world without adding someone else to the list, especially not a guy who was attractive and seemingly nice. My expectations of this guy were going to be too high for him to meet if I gave him the chance to get to know me.

‘How did your first session go?’ his tone didn’t change, the slight edge to the softness was endearing to me.

‘Good, actually. I actually wanted to thank you… for calming me down earlier. I came here thinking that I’d go in for one session and never came back but you’re right about Nina. She’s good…so, thank you’ I ended awkwardly, lifting my head a little in an effort to not appear to anti social.

‘No need to thank me, like I said it wasn’t too long ago I came here for the first time. My brother literally had to drag me into the waiting room, but now I’m glad he did. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. I’m sure it’ll be the same for you too.’

‘I hope so.’ I fixed the bag strap that was resting on my shoulder in a nervous fidget.

I’d forgotten about the white bandage that covered my wrist, accidentally exposing it when the sleeve of my coat rose up from the movement. When I caught him fixating on my wrist I took a quick glance. I quickly lowered my hand back down to my side but it was too late. He had already seen, and the sympathetic expression on his face made me feel ashamed and embarrassed. Upon seeing my reaction he tried to act as though he hadn’t noticed but we both knew he had.

‘I should go. Thanks again’ my voice went up in pitch as I brushed past him, hoping to never see him again.

‘Wait!’ he rushed after me, forcing me to stop in my tracks as I stepped onto the street.

I stood impatiently, desperate to get away from him. His face betrayed the conflict going on in his mind before his hand reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a small white card, handing it to me with shaking hands. I took it off him cautiously, reading the black italic print with narrowed eyes.  
__  
_Gerard Way_  
_Artist & Illustrator_  
_B.F.A_  
The bottom of the card had a cell phone number in bold print.

‘That’s my card. If you ever want to talk you can reach me at any time.’ His spoke quickly, worried about my reaction.

I tore my eyes away from the card to look at him. He seemed like a nice guy, but I knew from the past that appearances could be deceptive. I had no intention of calling him to find out.

‘Thanks’ I waved the card a little, giving him a little smile in an effort not to be rude.

‘Maybe we could meet for a coffee sometime?’ I could hear the hope in his voice, mixed with a little fear. His body language betrayed his feelings as he scratched the back of his neck and flushed a little while he waited for my answer.

I held in the sigh that wanted to escape. I hated being put in a position where I had to say no, but I wasn’t going to say yes and give him the impression I was available.

‘Em, I’m not sure my boyfriend would appreciate that.’

‘Oh’ he spoke dejectedly, making me feel like shit.

I gave him an awkward smile, showing my obvious discomfort. His eyes were downcast for a moment as he tried to regain a bit of composure before he looked at me again, his cheeks even more enflamed. I felt bad for him, I truly did but it was better disappointing him now instead of leading him on. I didn’t have the heart to do it, especially not to someone who was making a point of reaching out to me.

‘Well, the offer still stands. If you ever need to talk don’t be afraid to call me. Sometimes it’s good to have someone to talk to.’ He gave me a weak smile to cover up his awkwardness, trying to save face and recover from the rejection.

I nodded quickly.

‘Thanks….bye Gerard. It was nice meeting you.’

I took one last look at him before turning around and walking down the street, hailing a cab while forcing myself not to look back at the figure who was still watching me as I got inside the yellow car.  



	4. Chapter Four

  
I pulled the keys out of my bag, the jingle of metal against metal ringing out in the quiet hallway. I searched for the right key, finding the only silver one and sliding it into the gold lock. The door opened with a small click and a light push. The minute it was opened I could smell food wafting from the kitchen. The TV was on, my ears registering a loud male voice shouting about betrayal while a woman sobbed. I shut the door behind me before leaving my keys on top of the small plastic table to my left. The apartment was nice and warm compared to the cold autumn air outside which necessitated a heavy coat to beat the chill. I shrugged my coat off and hung it on the coat rack just beside the desk. Frank’s leather jacket was there, informing me he was there if the TV and smell of food had gone unnoticed by me. With a deep sigh, I walked into the large open plan living area and kitchen.

Our apartment was cosy, painted in warm tones, with a plush suede couch that was a joy to sleep on if I was so inclined. The living room floor was wooded with heating pipes underneath making it a dream to walk on bare footed during the winter when the heating was turned on. The fire place had a few ornaments on it, given to us by Frank’s mother as a house warming present. There was a large mirror above it, which I used to do my make up in the morning so Frank could use the bathroom. My cosmetics joined the ornaments on the white mantle piece; letting everyone know a woman occupied the place. The forty inch TV was a good indicator that a man lived there, which was hooked up to surround sound speakers and game consoles. There were a few framed picture scattered around the living area of the two of us, all of them featuring us with matching smiles. We looked happy and in love in the pictures, and it always made me smile when I took the time to analyse the pictures. I turned to face the kitchen, finding Frank in the middle of making dinner. The place was spotless as always in the aftermath of Frank’s cooking. We were opposites in that way. Anyone coming in after my attempts at cooking would think a nuclear explosion had taken place as bits of food would be everywhere and the pots and dishes were piled next to the sink. Cleaning definitely wasn’t my forte, which made Frank’s neatness a blessing. If I left a mess, he would clean it up. He didn’t even say anything about it anymore; it was just part of our routine now. Frank’s back was turned to me as he bent down to check whatever he had put into the oven. I saw a glass of wine on the counter. The red colour revealed it was wine, something I refused to drink. He was stressed if he was drinking wine; it was one of the few things that helped him unwind at the end of the day. It was a reminder of what I had put him through over the last few days. I had been selfish to the extreme without any consideration for Frank and how my actions would affect him. The fact that I only realised that now made my stomach churn with guilt.

‘Hey’ I spoke over the volume of the TV my voice, getting his attention.

He stood up sharply in surprise and faced me, letting me take the sight of him in. He wasn’t a tall man, standing at five foot four but it was something I loved about him. When we made love we complimented each other perfectly height wise, giving me an extra sense of comfort as it contrasted with Nick’s six foot frame which had always towered over me and smothered me. His skin was very lightly tanned due to his Italian heritage, and covered in tattoos. I loved every single one of them as they added to his individuality, giving me a physical reminder of just how perfect he was. His smile was boyish and easy going, and never failed to make my heart skip a beat. His dark chocolate brown hair was falling into his big brown eyes, the length was long enough for me to run my hands through it when we kissed or whenever I just wanted to be close to him. The white shirt he wore hid his toned body from view much to my displeasure. He worked out and it showed, his muscles were hard to the touch. There was a scar on his nose from the nose piercing he had in college, matching two other scars along his bottom lip. He resented getting rid of them for work, but he was realistic enough to understand that he would never get a decent job if he kept them. His large brown eyes were my favourite part of him though; they were so full of expression and framed deliciously with dark lashes. If we ever had children I wanted them to inherit his eyes. They showed the good person he was; he was kind, honest and so full of love and compassion that it put other people to shame.

‘Hey…how did it go?’ he asked, leaning his back against the counter and grabbing his glass of wine.

The action gave the appearance of ease and nonchalance but I know it meant the opposite. He was wound up, ready to pounce if he heard I hadn’t gone. I could see the careful way he observed me, searching for any sign of guilt. We rarely fought but when we did they were intense and one of us normally resorted to yelling, namely me.

‘It went well, I think’ I answered truthfully.

‘What did you talk about?’ he asked, still watching me.

‘Just stuff, about my mom and dad mostly’ I was deliberately vague.

He nodded but his expressive eyes told me he knew I wasn’t being completely forthcoming. I hated lying, but I wasn’t ready for the fallout I knew was ready to happen when he found out. More than likely he wouldn’t believe me. Even if he did, the outcome still wouldn’t be good. He would be angry that I kept it from him; angry that it had happened; angry that Nick to this day went unpunished for what he did. I wouldn’t just be Grace to him anymore; I would be Grace the rape victim. His view of me would change, and that frightened me enough to make me hope I would never have to tell him. That was if he believed me. The chances were that he wouldn’t. Nick was charming, warm hearted and generous to the people who didn’t know what a monster he was underneath the façade. While I hoped that Frank’s love for me would be in my favour, there was a chance that it wouldn’t be enough to convince him I was telling the truth.

‘Come here’ he stretched his arms out wide, waiting to envelope me in their warm embrace.

I didn’t hesitate to close the distance between us; in fact I was eager to. The last few days had taken their toll, and opening up to Nina had left me feeling more vulnerable than before. I wanted the comfort they always brought me when I didn’t feel like myself. They were safe and the scent from his body only made me want it more. It was a pure, simple pleasure to have them around me, holding me tight while I pressed my cheek against his chest and listened to his steady heart beat.

‘You’re still not going to tell me why you did it, are you?’ his voice was filled with pain and a little frustration.

‘I’m just not ready to yet…there’s so much you don’t know, so much I haven’t fully come to terms with yet. I need time to get my head around it before I can tell you. I’m not going to do it again though, I promise, and I love you more than anything else. Can that just be enough for now?’

He didn’t answer me straight away. He let out a low sigh, before resting his chin on the top of my head. His arms tensed around me, betraying his anger at my words. I thought he wasn’t going to answer when the words left his mouth in barely more than a whisper.

‘It’s enough for now.’

I hugged him tighter, secretly afraid that I would be forced to tell him the truth one day. The thought was enough to make me break out in a cold sweat that covered my entire body. It was something I was determined to avoid indefinitely.

‘What did you make for dinner?’ I changed the subject.

‘Lasagne, is that okay?’

‘It’s perfect’ I uttered, my words muffled as I snuggled against him.  


### Notes


	5. Chapter Five

  
I was back in the waiting room the following Monday, anxiety still coursing through my veins but this time I could deal with it. I knew now that it was better to face the fear instead of hiding away under the pain and anger I had lived with for so long. I had come a few minutes early, for a reason I barely wanted to admit to myself.

I wanted to see him. Gerard had become a source of fascination for me when I had more time to dissect what had happened. Curiosity was setting in, maybe as a coping mechanism to deflect from the stalemate that was infecting my home. I had taken the whole week off work, under duress from Frank. I had never had any sick days so work was surprisingly okay with it. I think Frank wanted to make sure I had time to think about what I did, and how badly it had affected him. I wanted to scream at him that I needed the distraction, but he had glared at me with that look that informed me I wasn’t getting my way this time. So, I had stayed at home like a good little invalid. Frank was waiting for me to open up and let him in on whatever it was I was bottling up, and I was refusing to give in. He may be stubborn, but nobody could outmatch me when I was determined.

I heard footsteps, and butterflies erupted in the pit of my stomach. I shouldn’t be this happy at seeing him, but I couldn’t help my natural reaction. He looked as good as he had last week, making me smile while I enjoyed the sight of him. His eyes met mine immediately and he offered me a shy smile. He wore the same black jacket from last week, and his hair was even messier but it made him look more ravishing. It took every ounce of will power within me to not blush at the way his eyes roamed over me. I wanted to tell him to stop but in order to do that I would be admitting that I was watching him with equal intensity. I was saved by Nina, who opened her office door just in time.

‘C’mon in Grace’ she greeted with the same smile she had plastered on last week. This time I only felt a slight twinge of anxiousness going in. It didn’t seem so scary or frightening, more that it now gave me a mild thrill of anxiety knowing that she would expect me to talk about things I may not be ready for. She didn’t force me to say anything, but somehow that seemed to be the key for me. When people, namely Frank, pushed and dug around to try and get me to open up I automatically froze up. They cared about me, and anybody who got close enough for me to care about them was somebody I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, lose. Nina wasn’t somebody who truly cared me. She cared about the difference I made to her bank balance. I knew her motive. I knew that no matter what I said to her it wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference to her feelings towards me. So, it strangely meant that she the person I could trust the most with my thoughts and my past.

 

I walked in the room with lighter steps, only taking a quick glance around the room before sitting down. The room was the same as last week, with the same filing cabinet that probably held a paper file with my name on it. The couches were the same, and her desk still had a bunch of files on top of it like it had last week. I wondered if I had even truly left last week.

‘So Grace, how have you been doing the last week?’ Nina asked once we were both settled on our respective couches.

The question stumped me. It was a relatively simple question you’d think but the truth is I didn’t know the answer to it. How I’d been doing was a point on conjecture really. If you asked my colleagues in work I was fine. I had gone back to work and my usual self, getting all my tasks done in a timely, professional manner as always. I smiled the same way I did before my absence. I had lunch with everyone in the canteen as per usual and laughed just the same at Mark’s stupid jokes. To them, nothing was wrong with me. I was absolutely fine. If you asked Frank, well I’m sure you’d get a different answer. He didn’t look at me the way he use to. He always looked at me with his big, hazel eyes and I use to feel like I was perfect to him. They would shine with happiness and it made me think that I mattered to at least one person in this God forsaken world were people became increasingly self involved and narcissistic. My own mother didn’t care about me, but Frank did. He would give me his smile, and no matter how mad or upset I was, it would calm me down. Now, he barely looked at me at all, and when it did there was a sadness there that I’d never seen before. The comfort I wanted from him was being denied to me, all because I couldn’t show him the person I truly was. The hugs that use to be a daily part of my routine had stopped, and at night instead of the cuddles that use to make me feel safe there was a space between us in the bed, emphasising the emotional distance that had settled between us. We were in some sort of stalemate, where he was refusing to give in until I told him what my ‘problem’ was and I was refusing to buckle under the emotional blackmailing.

I suppose the only person whose opinion mattered on how I was doing was sitting right here on the old, worn couch and they didn’t even know where to begin. How was I doing? What is the right way to answer that? Do I tell her how I’m doing _now_ _?_ Do I tell her how I was doing when Fiona at work smiled at me like nothing had happened and all I wanted to do was to scream all my ugly secrets at her just to wipe it off her perfect face? Do I tell her how I was doing when Frank didn’t even say goodbye before he left the apartment this morning? Or do I tell her how I was doing when Gerard walked into the waiting room and how it made me feel something other than hurt and pain?

‘I don’t know’ I answered truthfully, unable to meet her eyes.

‘It’s been a rough week I take it?’

I tried to put a few thoughts together before answer. Was it such a ‘rough’ week? Was it terrible? I mean, looking at the events that had happen, nothing ‘bad’ happened. Everything that made me feel down, that made me angry, they were all things that could be entirely innocent but in my screwed up brain I had warped them into something twisted and negative because I wanted another reason to explain the way I was feeling. I needed something else to take the blame for how I was feeling other that the incident with Nick. If it was all just down to that, it was giving him even more control over me. He was winning yet again, and I couldn’t bear for him to win yet again. He had taken too much already; he wasn’t going to get credit for destroying my relationship. That was going to be down to me.

‘It’s been…strange.’

‘How come?’

‘Things have been a little off between Frank and I. We’re barely on speaking terms.’

‘Did you argue?’

I shook my head.

‘No, he’s just mad that I won’t talk to him about what caused my ‘breakdown’ quote unquote. He won’t even use the words suicide attempt.’

Nina nodded as though she understood the situation. Which she didn’t, I mean how could she know? She doesn’t know Frank, she doesn’t know _us_ _._ I wouldn’t tell her that though.

‘It’s obviously a hard time for him too. Did he have any idea that you were depressed?’

‘I wasn’t, and am not, depressed.’

‘So what are you then Grace?’

I let out an offended scoff. What am I paying her for, exactly?

‘I don’t know, you’re the shrink. You tell me!’

Nina raised an eyebrow at me, revealing an emotion other than false nicety. It was a strange sight, one I wasn’t sure I liked. It was condescending, and I wasn’t here to pay for someone to look down on me. If I wanted that I would just go and visit my mother.

‘Grace, you suffered very traumatic sexual abuse at an age when most adolescents are beginning to explore their sexuality. Your father died at an early age and your mother subsequently remarried, irrevocably damaging the only parental relationship you had left to the point where by your own admission you rarely speak. You’ve yet to tell your boyfriend about the abuse you suffered, and your reaction to meeting your abuser is to attempt suicide. So tell me Grace, if you don’t suffer from depression like most people would, how would you describe your mental state?’

My breath was coming out in large, sharp gasps of air. I had been clenching my fists to the point where they were now beginning to tingle from the lack of blood circulating to them I was filled with rage at that moment, pure rage that I wanted to vent. No, scratch that, I needed to vent.

‘Fuck. You. You’ve known me for little over an hour, and you think you know me and what I feel?’

‘Of course I don’t Grace. I only know what _you_ tell me. So far you’ve done well considering you internalize your emotions instead of finding a healthy outlet for them. You don’t acknowledge your own feelings, not even to yourself. In doing so, you let everything build up. Think of your breaking point like a percentage scale. You had a happy enough childhood before your father’s death I presume, so you were at a zero. Your father dies, something that affected you deeply and say you go up to twenty per cent. Your mother remarries before you’re ready to move on, so maybe you go up to forty. Do you get where I’m going with this Grace? For every action, there’s a reaction and you refused to react. Eventually you’re tipping to the point where your mind can’t block it out anymore and the result is a dramatic reaction.’

I was livid with her. Not because I didn’t believe what she was saying, but because she was right. I had dealt with everything by _not_ dealing with it. I had put it all into a box, where no one could see what was happening inside my head. I never wanted to acknowledge what I was inside. I was an angry, resentful human being who longed to vent out but I refused to give anybody the satisfaction of seeing how deeply they hurt me.

‘So, what am I suppose to do now? I can’t change my past. I can’t change how I dealt with it then.’

‘No you can’t but you can start to deal with it now. By talking about it and being honest with yourself. It’s not a weakness to acknowledge that you’re hurting, or depressed.’

‘I’m not depressed. I don’t feel despair or sadness. I just feel anger, and numbness. With Frank I was even happy.’

‘Until he let you down.’

‘He didn’t let me down’ I responded quickly.

‘You felt safe with him Grace, why else would you go to a party where you knew there was a chance of meeting your stepbrother. Frank was a safety net for you, a crutch if you will. When his back was turned you were accosted and assaulted. While it wasn’t his fault in any way, are you sure you don’t feel any anger that when you needed saving he wasn’t there?’

I bit my lip at the question posed to me. Was I angry at him? No, how could I be, it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know, and it was my fault he didn’t. If he’d have known about Nick and believed me there’s no way he would have let me go to the party, let alone wander to the bathroom by myself. Yet, in a small, irrational way, I was angry. I had counted on him too much, I _expected_ too much from him. I had believed he could protect me from an evil he had no idea existed and he had failed.

‘It wasn’t his fault’ I muttered, my eyes wandering to my now laced fingers that were resting on my lap.

‘No, it wasn’t. But you wanted him to protect you, and he didn’t. Do you think perhaps the reason you won’t tell him now is to punish him?’

I creased my brow, my mind trying to figure out if she was right. The strain in our home right now wasn’t just down to him; it was my doing too. All he wanted was an explanation, a reason for why I had tried to end my life and I refused to give it to him. Did I want him to feel some form of guilt? Did I want him to hurt just as much as I did? The real answer was that yes, I did. I wanted him to pay for letting me down, for failing me. He didn’t even know, but some part of me blamed him for it.

‘Jesus Christ’ I sobbed, resting my elbows on my thighs as I put my face in my hands.

‘Grace it’s okay to be angry. Just let yourself be angry at someone other than yourself. It’s _healthy_ to feel angry sometimes.’  
My hands found their way to my hair, where they clutched at the mousy brown strands in anguish. I needed to let the anger out physically, I needed to _feel_ the pain that was writhing underneath my skin.

The session had ended shortly after my revelation, but this week instead of feeling better for it I felt like shit. I didn’t want to go home and see Frank there, with his big eyes and concerned expression that was just waiting for me to crack. My hair was a mess when I walked out, which I tried to pat down with shaking hands as I shut the door behind me. I stalled when I saw Gerard standing in the waiting room, searching his pockets for something. His gaze was directed at me when the door closed with a click, showing concern at my obvious less than perfect state.

‘Are you okay?’ he cut straight to the chase. It didn’t bother me, I’d rather he was blunt and honest instead of asking subtle questions to find out what’s wrong with me.  
I just shook my head, seeing no use in lying to him. It was obvious I wasn’t okay. His face showed an internal battle for a second before he spoke again.

‘Do you need to talk? I’m free so we could go for a coffee or something if you want.’

I opened my mouth to say no, when I realised I had no real reason to say no. He knew I had a boyfriend so he wouldn’t have any expectations. He was offering me a shoulder to lean on, and right now I desperately needed that.

‘Coffee would be good.’  



	6. Chapter Six

  
We walked in silence while Gerard led me to a coffee shop just around the corner from the practice. It was awkward and full of unasked questions from both sides. I was curious about him, there was no point in lying to myself about it. He seemed so _together_ that I found it hard to believe he needed to see a therapist. It was so surreal and off putting when contrasted with the picture I had in my head of what a normal ‘patient’ would be like. They should have major psychological problems, or addictions like drug use or alcoholism. Perhaps they liked to hurt themselves or others. At the very least they suffered crushing depression that made them unable to function, or they were so antisocial and lonely that they needed _somebody_ to talk to. Gerard didn’t appear to have any signs of those conditions as we strolled to the café with a slow, easy pace that did nothing to warm me up against the cold chill of autumn. I sneaked glances at him when I could get away with it, trying not to be obvious in my creepy behaviour. I certainly wasn’t in denial about my how negative my curiosity was; I knew it was probably borderline stalker-ish if I didn’t rein it in. I was one of those people that loved gossip magazines and celebrity news. I got a little thrill out of learning more about the dirty little details of other peoples’ lives. Maybe it stemmed from my own inability to be open with others but the reasons didn’t matter. I was a nosey little bitch when someone or something piqued my interest, and Gerard was no exception to this it seemed. I had no real desire to open up and talk to him about myself, in my mind that would be too much. The less he knew about me the better. I just wanted to get inside his head a little, maybe see how much he would talk if given a chance. He seemed like an open person if I judged him by our first meeting. So far I already knew he was an artist, he was in therapy for six months and he has a brother. He was college educated and he had a penchant for dark clothes. Our total conversation time ran to less than five minutes but I was privy to some knowledge about him. He knew nothing about me other than my name and that I had a boyfriend. The bandage he saw my wrist would perhaps give him an idea that I had hurt myself somehow, but he didn’t see that the off white cotton bandage ran all the up to the crook of my arm, and that underneath it there were more stitches than I cared to count. He didn’t know it was copied on the other arm. I never looked at the stitched up lines that littered my arm. I was going to be scarred for life as a result of my actions, something I had managed to avoid before. I had never cut deep enough to damage the skin to the point of scarring. If the cut was thin and light, and treated with Bio Oil it wouldn’t be permanent.

He stopped in front of a white door with two glass panes. He pulled it open and gestured for me to go on ahead of him. It brought a smile to my face to see he had manners. I headed straight for the counter, suddenly desperate for a caffeine hit. I scanned the menu that was mounted on the yellow wall behind the counter. The white chalk was easy to read against the black background, informing me that practically every kind of coffee imaginable was available to order. There were plenty of cakes and pastries for sale too but I hated eating in front of people I don’t know so I didn’t give that side of the menu board a second glace. Okay, maybe I did but it was only because deep down I really wanted something sweet. The white chocolate and raspberry muffin sounded like a piece of heaven right now. But I wouldn’t get it now. Maybe I’d get one to take home whenever I finished this…whatever this was with Gerard.

‘Can I get a large black coffee with peppermint creamer’ Gerard ordered beside me while I continued to look at the board. The barista at the till turned her attention to me

‘Can I get…a large skinny cappuccino please?’

‘Are you paying together?’ she inquired.

‘No’ I answered at the exact moment he said ‘yes’.

‘Yes’ he answered again before I could say again and handed her a ten dollar bill. I dug my hand into my bag to retrieve my black and white purse when he put a hand on my forearm.

‘It’s on me’ he scolded me sternly, the tone making me feel like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

‘Thanks’ I gave him a quick smile, trying to hide my annoyance.

It might sound ungrateful, but honestly I didn’t like it when people bought me things, especially if I didn’t know them. It meant you owed them something, whether it was your time or your money. Either one made me feel as though I had something held over my head, something that they would bring up and use against me at a later stage. It was how Nick kept me quiet in the early stages of the sexual abuse. That familiar feeling of being indebted never rested easy on my shoulders, and I made a mental note to pay Gerard back somehow.

We went to sit down while we waited for our caffeine fix, taking a small table by the window. It gave a nice view of the street; I imagined I could quite happily spend an hour or so just sitting here on my own people watching. It was quite amazing how much you see just by watching a seemingly mundane street. You could see people arguing, people being affectionate and in love, sometimes people looking so lost and alone that it made me feel better about myself. It sounds horribly selfish maybe, but sometimes you need to see other people’s misery to stop you feeling so shitty about your own life.

‘It’s nice to see I have so much of your attention.’

I jumped in surprise, a blush rising to my cheeks when I realised I’d been ignoring Gerard while staring out the window.

‘Sorry…I just people watch a lot. Bit of a habit’ I mutter in embarrassment.

He chuckled, a smile gracing his face as his eyes made contact with mine.

‘It’s fine. I do that sometimes too.’

‘People watch?’ I questioned.

‘Sometimes. You get a lot of inspiration from just taking in the world around you. There’s a lot of beauty to be found if you just open your eyes a bit.’

I smiled, a genuine one this time. He really was a good looking man, and the enthusiastic light that shone from his hazel eyes made me want to blush again. The barista came with our coffees, both us muttering thanks as she placed the drinks in front of us. I left mine to cool, not wishing to scald my tongue and throat because I was impatient. Gerard got stuck right in though, taking a large sip of his creamed coffee. I never knew how people could do that, just drink boiling liquid as though it was nothing. The only time I tried it I was left unable to eat anything other than ice cream for the rest of the day unless I wanted to be in pain. The tub of ice cream made up for it, but it was still something I rather not try again.

‘So, do you want to talk about it?’ he asked as he put his mug down, his hazel orbs focusing on my face again. I wondered what he thought of my appearance. I was short in height, with mousy brown hair and grey blue eyes. I wasn’t too skinny, but I made sure I didn’t carry any extra weight. My mother had made sure to drill it in to me at an early age that over indulgence in the short term had a heavy price in the long term. Not just in terms of weight, but other health problems that ran in my family like diabetes and high cholesterol. Right now I was certain my make up was wearing off and my hair (which had been tied back this morning) was full of flyaway bits. I shouldn’t care about whether he found me attractive or not, but I told myself it was only natural to want someone to find you appealing, or at least to think you weren’t the most hideous thing they’d ever seen.

‘Not really. But seeing as you asked me out for a drink, maybe you should tell me about yourself.’

‘Ah, classic diversion. Not gonna work with me’ he reprimanded me gently, not truly annoyed at me.

‘Fine. You tell me more about yourself, and then I’ll talk.’

‘Fair enough. What do you want to know?’ he asked, casually leaning back to rest his back against the chair.

‘Why are you in therapy?’

He laughed, or giggled to be exact. It was so girlish that I couldn’t help but laugh at him.

‘You get straight to the point, huh?’

‘I’m curious’ I reply with a shrug of my shoulders.

‘You’re nosey.’ He retorted

‘Same difference’

‘Alright. I’m an alcoholic….recovering alcoholic I should say.’

The shock I felt must have shown on my face. Sitting here across from me he didn’t look like someone abused substances. He was well dressed, well groomed and spoke very well. I couldn’t imagine him locking himself away drinking.

‘Really?’ I stupidly asked.

‘Yeah, I was pretty bad at one point. I nearly lost my job ‘cos I’d drink all night and be too hung over the next day. My brother realised I had a problem and made me accept that I needed help. He forced me to speak to someone, and now here I am.’

‘Wow. I must admit I’m surprised…you don’t seem like the type.’

He barked a mirthless laugh, full of self bitterness.

‘I have issues just like everyone, perhaps more than most. I drank to forget about them but I ended up nearly destroying myself. I was one step away from suicide when my brother made me get help. If he didn’t I would be dead by now.’

The last line resonated with my own thoughts on Frank’s intervention. In my heart I knew if he hadn’t made me go to Dr. Manning I would have made another attempt, and made sure I’d succeeded.

‘What issues did you have to make you want to hurt yourself so badly?’

Perhaps I was going too far. I was digging more than I had any right to do, I was nothing more than a stranger to this guy but I just couldn’t help myself. I suppose in a way I was testing him. If he could tell me about his past, tell me what made him thick, I could try and be honest with him. I wanted to know if he had horrors in his past that compete with mine.

The silence that fell after my blurted question, and the strange piercing, calculating look he gave me made me wonder if I had actually pushed too far. I was going over an invisible line that he had drawn up in his mind, and I felt a sting of guilt and shame at my behaviour. I opened my mouth to apologise, but he silenced me with an exaggerated sigh.

‘If I tell you it’s only right to expect the same honesty in return.’

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised or offended by the response. It was only fair to reciprocate if I was asking him to expose his secrets. Then again, perhaps his dirty secret was nothing more than he had gotten cheated on by some ex. I wouldn’t reveal a thing to him unless his was of equal value to mine, or at least something more substantial than a broken heart. I decided to agree, and if his secret was some non issue I could make up some bullshit.

‘Okay, you tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.’

He nodded to show he heard and understood me. He stopped gazing at me, instead diverting his eyes to the mug in front of him. His hands which gripped the ceramic mug suddenly went tight, and even though his jacket hid his arms from view I could see how they had tensed up. His while body was rigid and coiled, making me wonder if he was truly comfortable with the topic at hand. It didn’t bother me enough to encourage me to tell him he didn’t have to tell me. I was too interested to turn back now.

‘My mother is Italian, so naturally I grew up in a catholic household. When I was eight my mother encouraged me to become an altar boy for the local church. She was really involved in the community, helping out with fundraisers and all that stuff. It meant a lot to her. So I agreed to keep her happy. I spent the next five years being sexually abused by one of the priests.’

If I had been holding my mug of coffee it would have been dropped as his words hung in the air for a few tense drawn out seconds. At first I didn’t know how I should respond. Do I tell him I’m sorry? It was so cliché and yet I couldn’t think of anything else to tell him. Except perhaps the thing I had avoided tell anyone else.

‘My stepbrother abused me for four years when I was a teenager.’

There was a confused and shocked expression on his face. My response was not what he expected, but I felt it was far more honest than telling him I was sorry. I was sorry for him, don’t get me wrong but I also don’t know him well enough to reach out to him with sympathy. It wasn’t what he wanted from me, and I certainly didn’t want any from him.

‘What made you start going to a therapist now?’ he asked.

I sighed, not really in the mood to talk about it but he had been honest with me and I wasn’t about to throw that in his face.

‘I met my abuser for the first time in four years a couple of weeks ago. I tried to commit suicide a few days later. My boyfriend found me and now he’s making me go to counselling.’

Gerard didn’t give a verbal response to this. He gave a curt nod of understanding, and the compassion that shone in his eyes revealed he was thinking the same thing I was in that moment. There was a mutual feeling of comfort, and a relief that we had found someone who not only sympathised but had suffered a similar experience. The knowledge that there was someone who had an inside perspective on what I was feeling made me feel not so fucked up and alone anymore.

It was a nice feeling.  



	7. Chapter Seven

I had given Gerard my number after our coffee date. I felt obliged to offer him the same courtesy he had so graciously given me. We had spent a couple of hours just sitting in the coffee shop, talking about meaningless subjects that served to plaster over the awkward conversation we had. I realised what a funny guy he was. He made me laugh most of the time, whether it was from a dry witted comment or telling me some ridiculous story about his time spent in art school. He talked out of the corner of his mouth sometimes which was oddly adorable. I also became aware that he was reaching out to me not just to comfort me, but because he was lonely. He talked about his friends in the past tense. I wondered if he had had a falling out with them, or had he inadvertently isolated himself from them while fighting for sobriety. Perhaps they were bad influences who would destroy the progress he seemed to have made. Whatever the cause, it was with a pang of pain that resonated from my chest that I saw the sadness and loneliness he was feeling. It wasn’t in the words he said, and if you didn’t look below the surface of his somewhat chirpy façade you wouldn’t even know it was there. But I could see it. It was all so familiar to me. It was the same mask I wore day in, day out when in work and at home. I felt a tinge of anger at the unfairness of the situation. I didn’t know him very well or even at all really, but it didn’t take long to acknowledge that he was a good person. He was able to talk with confidence; he could make you feel at ease with a smile and a few words. His smile was genuine and sincere, and he seemed to be a very open minded individual who actually took a look at the world around him and had an opinion on what he saw. He didn’t deserve to feel the pain and loneliness that plagued him. Something inside me wanted to fix that part of him. The part that wanted to know someone cared about him. The truth was I did care. I cared as much as I could for a guy who was nice, sincere and royally fucked up like I was. I found the traits I wished I had so badly in him. When it came down to it I wanted to be more like him. Or maybe I just liked him.  
  
So I had left him with a napkin that had my number written on it and a note reminding him he could contact me any time if he wanted to talk. I had no doubt he would get in contact with me. I was only surprised by how often we were in contact. In the few days since we had met for coffee he messaged me every day, not just once or twice but consistently throughout the day. He would ask how I was, how my day had gone, if I was okay. He’d tell me about his day in return, sometime more if I asked him. He was always honest with me, and I returned that honesty back. I felt unable to hold myself back now that he knew about my past. Like a sixteen year old schoolgirl with a crush I found myself waiting for his messages and I kept my phone close by at all times so that I wouldn’t miss it. He never called me, and while I was glad he didn’t I could deny that a part of me wanted to hear his voice again. Frank would ask questions though if I was suddenly spending my evenings talking on the phone. Maybe not though, seeing as he was now making a point of limiting our conversations. His passive aggressive behaviour was driving me to the brink of insanity. In all our time together we’d never taken our arguments this far. I felt like we were becoming strangers, cold and indifferent to each other and how our actions were affecting the other. I knew I could fix it if I wanted. All I had to do was say the words I had uttered to Gerard and Nina. I could end the suffering one way or another by revealing the most disgusting piece of me. But the fear that I would lose him forever stopped me. I slowly came to realise that the true fear wasn’t that he wouldn’t believe me. For all the protestations to myself that he wouldn’t accept what I said, I knew I was lying to myself. The true terror was the fact that it would change us if I did. I would no longer be the Grace he fell in love with. I would become this broken, damaged human being that needed to be treated and fixed. He would have a cause and solution to any problem put before him. He wouldn’t realise that there was no fixing me. I wasn’t an unfeeling machine or a broken string on his guitar. My emotions and psychological makeup didn’t have a remedy that would turn me into a ‘normal’ person and erase all the bad memories that made me the person I had become. I had ceased to be normal the minute I found my father’s body the day after my twelfth birthday.  
  
I wanted Frank to be the first to break for once. I didn’t want to be the one who gave in any more. Every time we hit a bad patch or had a disagreement it was me who breached the gap, or jumped through hoops to get things back to normal. It was always me that cracked under the pressure from the negative emotions between us when something was wrong because I was so afraid of losing the one person who made me feel loved without conditions. Now, something had changed. For once I wanted Frank to be the peace maker; I wanted him to come to me with tears in his eyes telling me he was sorry. I wanted him to be as weak as I felt every time I waited for him to tell me he forgave me and that we were alright. I was tired of compromising myself. I was tired of the submissive façade I had built up over the years. The mask was of my own making, and the consequences of it were mine to bear. I was just so [i]tired[/i] of it though. The weakness and vulnerability I had felt through my adolescence had never gone away. I realise that now. I wanted that to change. I was adamant that I wouldn’t crack. It was important to me that I didn’t.  
  
Of course, as always, I did crack though. It was day four after my ‘date’ with Gerard. The day had gone just like all the others. I woke up, got ready for work in the deafening silence that lingered between Frank and I. I went to work, came home from work. Endured more silence from Frank before I went to bed. That night something new happened. Well, really it was something that hadn’t happened in a very long time. I drifted off into a nightmare that was frighteningly real. It wasn’t a nightmare, so much as a memory that I had buried along with all the other memories of my teenage years.  
  
 _I had gone to bed without feeling the dread that normally filled the pit of my stomach at night. Nick had gone out to a party tonight, which meant he probably wouldn’t be home. He was only seventeen but he was allowed to go out to parties and drink as long as he didn’t bring any trouble home or let it interfere with his school work. Friday was the night he would go out and it was the only night out of the seven days of the week that I got any reprieve from his nightly ‘visits’. I was fifteen now, but that didn’t stop him. I wanted desperately to tell my mother, I had tried to tell her even but the words had gotten stuck in my throat. I was beginning to fight back but it never did any good. I was a mere five three while he was at least six foot. He was a football player, which meant he was well built and toned. I had no way of defeating him, but I refused to let him do what he wanted without at least trying to stop him. He could buy my silence with threats but that didn’t mean I would lie back and take it. Tonight I wouldn’t have to fight though. Tonight I could be free. Better yet, my mother and step father were out and wouldn’t come home until three in the morning. The place was mine for once. There were no judging eyes; no uncomfortable stares that made me want to die._  
  
I should have known it was too good to be true. I had let myself fall into a false sense of security. I was suddenly woken up with a forceful shake, pulling me out of my peaceful slumber with panic. I let out a gasp, anxiety and fear gripping me from the sudden movement. My eyes flew open, landing on a face that had become so familiar to me. I hadn’t been prepared for this tonight. I was caught unaware, making my body tremble and quake with the shock.  
  
‘Damn, she’s cute.’  
  
The deep voice didn’t come from Nick. I turned my head to the left, to find that Nick and I weren’t alone. One of his friends, a fellow jock on his team, was looking at me with a smirk on his face. I couldn’t breathe as my mind quickly realised what was going to happen to me. There was no doubt about what was going to take place. I felt the tears well up in my eyes but I choked back the sob that wanted to escape. Crying would make it worse. Nick didn’t like it when I cried. He would hurt me when I did. His thrusts would get harsher, more forceful. He would cover my nose and mouth and stop me from breathing sometimes if he was angry enough. I couldn’t stop the whimpered breath that left my lips though. The fear I felt was surely written on my face.  
  
‘Now Gracie, there’s no need to cry’ Nick’s slurred voice reached my ears ‘ I’ve just been telling Mark about what a wonderful little fuck you are. He didn’t believe me, so we’re going to show him just what a good girl you are. Sit up, take your top off.’ He ordered.  
  
I shook my head, not even the fear could stop my need to try and take some control. I was rewarded with a sharp slap across my right cheek. My cheek throbbed from the impact. Nick never normally got violent. He could easily overpower me if he wanted to so he didn’t need to use violence unless he wanted to inflict pain. Tonight was different though. Tonight we had an audience, who would later become a participant in his sick game. The stinging pain was all it took for me to sit up and grab the bottom of my tank top with shaking hands before pulling the thin materiel over my head.  
  
‘You’re in for a treat tonight’ Nick murmured, whether it was meant for me or Mark I didn’t know.  
  
I woke up screaming, my legs kicking and flailing as I struggled against an invisible enemy. The sobs were being wretched from my throat as the covers entangled me in their hold. The darkness was suddenly overcome by the bedside lamp as I registered movement beside me.  
  
‘Jesus Christ!’ Frank’s sleep heavy voice croaked out in shock beside me. His eyes were wide and frightened as he sat up on the bed, his breathing coming out in short sharp pants not too dissimilar to my own as I came back to reality and realised I was safe.  
  
‘What the hell was that?’ he asked, confused and alarmed.  
  
‘Just a dream’ I murmured, wiping the tears away as I tried to calm myself down. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. It was nothing but a memory that had chosen to resurface now for some reason I couldn’t fathom.  
  
The silence descended again for a brief moment.  
  
‘Are you okay?’ Frank asked.  
  
I was about to say yes. The words ‘I’m fine’ were on the tip of my tongue. Instead what came out was a pitiful ‘no’, which was followed by a torrent of tears I had been repressing. Frank took my into his arms, showing me the first bit of affection I’d received in days. It only served to push me further over the edge, my hands snaking to clutch the front of his t shirt as I sobbed uncontrollably.  
  
‘I’m sorry’ was all I could say, over and over again while Frank tried to calm me down with soft, soothing words. We eventually fell back asleep, my head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around me.  
  



	8. Chapter Eight

I was back in the waiting room again. This time there were no nerves, just a mild sense of anticipation. I was admittedly a little hesitant about what topics would be brought up with Nina this week but I figured it couldn’t get more awkward than the things we’ve already discussed. If I can talk to her about Nick I figured I could survive anything else she chose to bring up and dissect into a million pieces. Maybe I would have another breakthrough moment, or maybe it would just be a boring, draining session. I had no particular desire to be here, but once the fear and dread had been taken away I found that I wasn’t too annoyed that I was here again. After two weeks it was a part of my routine already and with that a sense of stability that I liked. Nina, while not my favourite person in the world, was someone who listened to me, even if she was being paid to do. It was nice to have someone who I didn’t have to restrict myself with. Also, it would be a lie if I said I wasn’t hoping to get a glimpse of Gerard before my session started. He was on my mind a lot, to the point of distraction. Maybe for the same reason I was slowly becoming more at ease with the idea of seeing Nina on a weekly basis. He listened, and better yet he understood. I appreciated the unique combination that happened to be concealed in a rather attractive, kind, funny form.  
  
‘Grace?’ Nina’s voice called out from her office.  
  
I ignored the pang of disappointment over not seeing Gerard as I stood up. I walked over to the door, smiling when I caught a frazzled looking Gerard entering the waiting room. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second before I closed the door behind me and took my normal seat across from Nina.  
  
‘So Grace, how are you feeling this week?’ Nina got stuck in, not giving me a moment to take a breather before starting our session.  
  
‘Better. I mean, the last couple of days haven’t been too bad so…’ I trailed off, unsure of what else to say.  
  
‘You and Frank made up then?’ Nina asked, a smile on her face.  
  
‘Sort of. We’re talking, but only because I had a nightmare a couple of nights ago. I think he’s worried that I’ll go off again or something.’ I mumbled.  
  
‘What was your nightmare about?’ she leaned forward, her eyes lighting up with renewed interest. She was genuinely curious, for what reasons I couldn’t begin to try and guess.  
  
I explained the nightmare, not entirely comfortable with describing it but I accepted it was necessary. There was no point in paying her for her service if I wasn’t going to do my part. Who knows, maybe by talking about it I could exorcise the lingering fear and helplessness that remained in the aftermath.  
  
‘Why do you think you dreamt about that particular memory?’ Nina asked, vague curiosity lacing her otherwise detached voice.  
  
I sighed but I refrained from rolling my eyes. She always asked the questions I wanted her to answer.  
  
‘I don’t know. I hadn’t even thought about it in a long time.’  
  
Nina’s eyes narrowed at me, scrutinising me in a way that I was slowly getting use to.  
  
‘Was it a regular occurrence for Nick to invite a friend along?’  
  
‘No, that was the first and only time.’  
  
‘It must have been a frightening experience’ she stated.  
  
‘It was. It was the first time I realised just how much control he had over me, how far he could go to humiliate me.’  
  
‘Is that what you believe it was? That he was trying to show his ownership of you?’ Nina asked while leaning back against the couch.  
  
‘Partly. He enjoyed blackmailing me and forcing me to do things for him. He could control me and he made sure I knew it. He could give me away to his friends and get away with it because he had me wrapped around his finger in fear.’  
  
‘Do you think you had the dream because you feel like you’ve been losing control recently, or possibly emotionally blackmailed? You spoke about how Frank wasn’t speaking to you because you refused to speak to him about what triggered your suicide attempt. He was creating an emotional distance in order to push you into confiding in him, maybe you felt like he was trying to control you in the way Nick use to?’  
  
I glared at her. I hated how she could take what I said and twist it in such a way that it distorted my view of other things that were unrelated. I hated it because I knew she was right on some level.  
  
‘Frank is nothing like Nick. He’s never tried to control me or what I do. He’s never tried to hurt me.’  
  
She smirked when she sensed my anger and leaned forward again. It bothered me to no end how she couldn’t stay still. Every two minutes she was moving back and forth, giving me a headache from the constant motion.  
  
‘I don’t think Frank is anything like Nick, that’s not what I was trying to imply. I simply meant that Frank is understandable frustrated being kept in the dark and his response to distance himself made you feel threatened and coerced, whether that was his intention or not. This is all about _your_ perception of what’s going on in your life, not mine.’  
  
That made sense I suppose. I suddenly didn’t want to talk about it anymore though. Things were slowly getting better with Frank and I wasn’t going to focus on the dream/memory. The next words tumbled out of my mouth without much consideration going into them.  
  
‘I went out for a coffee with Gerard last week after our session.’  
  
Nina’s face fell in confusion, and I could tell I surprised her. I felt a little pride at that. I finally got a genuine reaction from her.  
  
‘Dr Finn’s patient?’  
  
‘Yeah. He asked me if I wanted to talk, and I had nothing else to do so…’  
  
‘What did you talk about?’  
  
I recognised the expression on her face. It was undisguised curiosity.  
  
‘I told him about Nick after he told me about his own… abuse. When he opened up I felt like there was someone who could…understand me I suppose? I don’t know, it was strange, but in a good way.’  
  
‘That’s understandable.’  
  
She wasn’t impressed. I could see it on her face, in the way her lips were pressed together and her normally smooth forehead was wrinkled with frown lines.  
  
‘Do you think I shouldn’t be talking to him?’ I asked.  
  
‘I wouldn’t say that. It’s good to be able to talk to someone who is going through similar problems. Everyone needs an outlet.’  
  
She was lying. Her smile was the most insincere one I’ve seen since the last time I met my mother. I wanted to know why. Did she know something about him I didn’t? Maybe she didn’t trust me with him. Maybe she thought I would bring him down with all my issues. I wanted to ask her, but there was no way she’d tell me.  
  
‘That’s why I gave him my number’ I told her, secretly wishing to goad her into admitting her disapproval.  
  
‘Oh. Have you been in contact much?’  
  
‘We text a lot but we never talk on the phone. I get the feeling he’s lonely or something, you know? Nobody deserves to feel that way.’  
  
‘Maybe he likes being alone. Most people enjoy the company of others, but some people find that they prefer their solitude.’  
  
‘I don’t think he does though. I think he was reaching out, not to help me but to help himself. Does that make sense?’  
  
‘It does. How do you feel about someone depending on you for their…emotional outlet?’  
  
I shrugged.  
  
‘I don’t mind. He’s a nice guy, it’s not like he’s clingy or anything.’  
  
‘Grace…’ Nina sighed, a slight edge of frustration to her voice ‘ it’s important for you to focus on yourself right now. Just make sure you don’t allow yourself to become too involved in someone else’s problems.’  
  
‘I’m not going to get too involved. Scout’s honour’ I saluted her, amused by the concern she was showing. Maybe part of did care about her patients. Miracles could happen.  
  
She glared at my flippancy. She could have been a principal with her ability to ooze disapproval with just one look. I grinned sheepishly, slightly apologetic for my action but not enough to actually apologise.  
  
‘Our time is up for this week. I’ll see you next Monday Grace. Look after yourself Grace.’  
  
Her words were laced with some kind of motherly concern that I hadn’t heard in a very long. I couldn’t help the tears that sprung to my eyes at hearing such a caring tone. I cleared my throat and blinked the tears away. My mother issues would have to be dealt with another day.  
  
‘I will. You too.’  
  
I left the office and just like last week I waited for him. There’s nothing wrong with spending time with Gerard, in fact it was a good thing to spend time with someone I felt so comfortable with. Being around people is a good thing. Nina was wrong to be so worried. I had no fears about getting too involved. Maybe he was depending on me for his emotional needs, but the way I saw it, it was a two way street. I was using him too. Maybe I wasn’t pouring my heart to him but he filled a void I didn’t realise existed.  
  
When I saw him stepping into the waiting room, I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my lips. He always managed to look good no matter what. His jeans were a little worn looking, and the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than last week but when he returned my smile the bags and tattered jeans didn’t seem to be as noticeable anymore.  
  
‘You have time for a coffee?’  
  
I don’t know where the sudden confidence came from. Maybe it was because I knew he wouldn’t say no. Not to sound narcissistic, but with the amount of time we spent texting I was certain he enjoyed my company, plus I knew he had nowhere else to be right then. A part of me knew I should be going straight home to try and fix things with Frank instead of spending time with Gerard, but I didn’t care. Not right then anyway.  
  
‘Lead the way.’  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, 
> 
> I'm still pretty new to this site, so if you like my stuff please leave a comment or kudos! Things will start picking up in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Lyra

We didn’t talk as we took the familiar trail to the same coffee shop we had graced with our presence the week before. It was a comfortable silence though, and surprisingly pleasant. We walked in sync with each other, our arms occasionally brushing against each other during our brisk pace to the coffee shop. Right now I really just wanted some coffee. I could feel the after-shock from the session still in my system. The way Nina could twist and turn the things I told her infuriated me, temporarily increasing my stress levels to the point where the only thing I wanted was a big cup of fucking coffee. Going home to Frank would only increase my anger and frustration if I didn’t unwind and vent. At least, that’s the excuse I was telling myself while I went on a coffee date with another man. Gerard was different though; he was kind, funny and he knew what to say to make me feel better. He wouldn’t try to force me to talk about my past; he wouldn’t get frustrated with me when I needed space. He was just _there_. Begging to be used in whatever way I needed to use him. Maybe it was strange way for me to think, but it was nice to not feel like the submissive one in a relationship. With everybody else I felt like I had to pander to their every whim to ensure their friendship. Being used, being submissive, it was all I knew. It was an instinctual reaction, brought on by years of forced obedience. I didn’t feel that way with Gerard. I felt like we were equals. Or, if I were being truly honest with myself, I felt as though I had the upper hand in the friendship we had formed. He came to _me_ ; he contacted _me_ first whenever we text. The feeling was strange; I wasn’t sure how to react to it. It wasn’t in my nature to take advantage of people, to use them for my own gain. I suppose I never had any ambitions or desires that required me using somebody. Then Gerard comes along, puppy like in his attentions. He wanted attention and affection, begged to have a little bit of my time. It was an ego boost for sure, and one I wasn’t sure I was entirely comfortable with. The idea that I was in charge for once, that I had the ability and discretion to use somebody, was such an exhilarating thought, and scary in equal measure. Control and authority didn’t rest easy on my shoulders.

Ever the gentleman, he opened the door and waved me through first. The coffee shop was just as warm and welcoming as the last time I had ventured inside the small but homely shop.  I saw the same two baristas were working behind the counter. Gerard was right behind me as we walked up, placing our order.

‘That’ll be six-fifty.’

I was prepared this time. I handed over ten dollars before Gerard could even blink. His face fell in surprise at first. It was quickly replaced by a slightly offended expression. He almost looked wounded, as though by paying I had emasculated him.

‘Just say thank you’ I all but snapped, unimpressed by his puppy dog eyes.

‘Thanks’ he muttered, recovering his wits and forcing a smirk on his face.

‘You’re one of those old fashioned guys, aren’t you?’

‘I wouldn’t say old fashioned’ he countered, leading the way to the small table we had inhabited before ‘I was raised with manners.’

I could have argued the point, told him that we weren’t on a date thereby voiding the need to pay. I could have told him it was outdated to be so gentlemanly to somebody he barely knew on basis of gender alone. In fact, I was tempted to argue his actions, by virtue of treating me differently because I was a woman and being offended by my paying was sexist in nature. I knew I could have gotten a rise out of him, or perhaps sparked a debate I would have argued just for the sake of it. I didn’t though. The narcissistic belief that I had the upper hand seemed to disappear in a flash. The fear of causing an irreparable fracture in our burgeoning friendship put a stopper on the thoughts that had flooded my mind not five minutes before. I took my seat, suddenly feeling more self conscious and vulnerable than ever before. It felt like I’d been given a blow; for the first time I realised just how much fear held me back.

‘So, how have you been?’ Gerard began the conversation, completely unaware of what was going on in my mind.

‘I’ve been okay. You look like crap though.’

I was being honest. Now that I was sitting across from him at a small table I could see how pale his skin was. It was a sickly kind of pale, further emphasised by the dark bags under his eyes. They were so dark that I almost winced at the sight of it, and combined with the red tinged lower lid and slightly bloodshot eyes he made a truly awful sight in comparison to his normal appearance. His hair was always a styled mess but, now it was just an unkempt disaster.

‘Yeah, I was up all night. I have a commissioned painting that I was due to finish on Wednesday, but once I got into it I couldn’t make myself stop. I got about three hours sleep before my phone woke me up. I barely made it to my session on time, as I’m sure you saw. Thanks for the compliment by the way. Telling someone they look like shit is a great conversation starter.’

He didn’t look offended by my comment, but his chiding made me feel ashamed. I was well aware that telling someone they looked like shit was bad manners, but I would have been lying if I told him otherwise. Plus, I was curious why he was slightly worse for wear. He came across as someone who, while not vain about their appearance, made an effort to not look shabby. He wanted to give the world, and the people he met, a good first impression of who he was.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. What kind is painting is it?’

If I didn’t realise Gerard’s passion for art before I asked the question, I certainly knew all about it ten minutes later when he was still going on about it. I found myself drowning out his words about the nature scene he’d painted. Instead I began to take in the way he spoke. He was talking out of the side of his mouth, a smile tugging at his lips as the words flowed on and on out of mouth. His eyes seemed to shine a little brighter, glistening in the fluorescent light of the Café. His hands were gesturing widely as he spoke, with little flicks and waves as he explained the inspiration behind the project.

‘Grace?’

He spoke my name softly, but I jumped in my seat and flushed with embarrassment at being caught.

‘I’m boring you’ he stated, leaning back in his seat. He didn’t seem angry or annoyed, in fact he seemed slightly amused at my embarrassment.

‘No, not at all’

‘Yes I am, it’s okay. I get carried away sometimes. I forget that not everybody takes an interest in what I do.’

‘You’re obviously passionate about what you do.’

‘You kind of have to be if you want to make a living out of it. It’s the only thing that makes it worth it when you’re stuck in a small dingey apartment without a penny to your name. If you stick it out and make the right contacts you can start to make a bit of money, but it takes years to get to that stage. If you don’t have ‘passion’, as you out it, and determination, you’ll never make it.’

‘It sounds tough.’

‘It was at first. I was stuck working in a supermarket for a long time to make enough money to pay the bills while I tried to build up a portfolio. I manage to make a good bit of money from it on the side now, and I work for a company that’s pretty flexible with the hours I have to spend in the office so I can work from home ninety per cent of the time, which is the only reason I still have it when I was at my worst. Drawing and painting is an outlet for me in a way. It’s one of coping mechanisms I suppose.’

‘You obviously have a talent. Personally, I suck at drawing. I couldn’t draw a straight line if my life depended on it.’

‘Art is subjective. There’s no such thing as ‘good’ or ‘bad’. It’s what I love about it.’

‘No, I’m bad. I wasn’t joking when I said I couldn’t draw a straight line. I probably wouldn’t have the patience for it anyway. I mean, I look at a piece of art and I’m just amazed at how someone could invest so much of their time and energy into something people mightn’t even like.’

‘That’s one way of looking at it, but it’s not what other people think. It’s about you, and your interpretation of the world you live in, or what you’re feeling. It’s about having something to say and making a statement. Everybody needs an outlet to express that. Some people work out in the gym to physically vent their frustration, some people write to distract themselves from their reality while at the same time showing the world exactly how they feel. I draw to show people how I feel. All you have to do is find the thing that expresses who you are.’

‘How do you find it?’

The question was sincere. I agreed with what he said, everybody should have an avenue of interest that they could pour themselves into, body and soul. I wanted to find that. I needed to find it. Gerard had his art; it had helped him to pull himself out of the hole he had found himself in. If it worked for him, maybe it could work for me.

‘It’s about doing something you enjoy. Did you have any hobbies as a child?’

‘Not really. I wasn’t into extracurricular activities when I was younger.’

Gerard rolled his eyes.

‘C’mon, there must be something. Did you ever doodle, or write when you were little? No eight year old can just sit at home without finding something to do.’

‘I don’t know. I use to borrow my dad’s camera I suppose. He had a really good, expensive camera. He loved taking pictures. Most of them were just pictures of mundane day to day stuff, there was nothing really special about them but he liked capturing the moment I think. I would steal it from his office and run off with it, wasting a whole roll of film. I loved setting up scenes with my toys, or taking pictures of birds in the garden. He use to scold me over taking it but, he kept every single picture I took. He used to frame them and leave them all over the house, and I use to feel so proud that my father thought my photos were good enough to show off. ’

I felt the lump forming in my throat. The one that told me I was on the verge of tears. I hadn’t thought about my father in a long time; my mother had never let me talk about him, so I had taught myself to forget about him. Memories of him brought nothing but emotional pain and a physical ache in my chest that wouldn’t ease until I broke down and sobbed them away.

‘Why did you stop?’

Gerard’s voice was soft; he could sense the change in my demeanour but it didn’t stop him from pushing.

‘My mother threw his camera out when he died, along with the photos. She got rid of everything that reminded her of him, including his photos. Then I just stopped.’

My hands were shaking by this point in an effort to control my emotions. I was slightly angry that my father’s death was still a topic that overwhelmed me. I had never dealt with the pain of his loss; his death had been harsh but quickly overshadowed by Nick’s abuse. I had learnt to pretend that he didn’t exist, and with that I had lost a part of myself. The part that loved exploring, that enjoyed the colours of nature and making up my own imaginary world. It had all been trampled on and left to die.

‘It’s not too late to take it up again.’

I gave a non committal shrug; I had no real desire to pick up a camera, but Gerard wouldn’t take that for an answer. I just hoped he would pick up on my desire to let the subject drop. It would lead to nothing good if he pursued it under the mistaken notion it would help me to talk about it. This was something that no amount of talking would help. My issues stemmed from my uncaring mother and psychopathic step brother, and I wasn’t going to let anyone convince me otherwise.

‘Anyway, tell me more about your time in SVA.’

Gerard let out a little sigh of annoyance, but he indulged me and let his chatty side take over, successfully lifting the mood again and making me feel as ease again.                                            

 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*Le sigh*_
> 
> _Whenever I try to pull my shit together, something always gets in the way. I swear I'm trying to update my stuff more frequently, but it's just not happening. This chapter should have been twice as long, but since it's been a while since I've updated I'm posting this up now._
> 
> _As always, please comment/subscribe/kudos if you like. They inspire me to write even when I don't feel like it._
> 
> _Lyra_

“Are you sure you’re okay with me going? I can stay if you want.”  
  
Frank’s question was genuine. His large round eyes were watching me, waiting for me to ask him to stay. I wanted to; I really,  _really_  wanted to but, I refuse to be one of those girlfriends who stop their boyfriends from going out with their mates just because she was jealous/insecure/neurotic. Or in my case, all three combined. His large duffel bag was almost packed, ready for his weekend bachelor party in Las Vegas. While he would be off gallivanting, gambling, boozing and God knows what else, I would be stuck here; alone. I knew he was secretly excited about getting away, even if just for the weekend. Things were getting better between us, but there was still a tightly wound tension between us. I understood his need to escape from the crushing weight of it; I just wish I could too. Instead I would be here in the apartment with nothing but memories and regrets to taunt me with all the recent mistakes I’ve made to push Frank away. With everything that had happened, I was keenly aware that Frank might meet someone who was stable and untainted. Maybe she would be tall, blonde, thin, full of confidence and capable of being honest with him. He wouldn’t have to worry about whether he would come home to find her in a pool of her own blood. I knew he was worried about what state he’d find me in when he came back. The real question he was asking was ‘are you going to have another breakdown?’   
  
He was dressed with comfort in mind; his t shirt was loose and his jeans were well worn. The bachelor party were taking a late night flight to Vegas tonight, and as the groom couldn’t take any more days off work, they would be back Sunday night. They wouldn’t land until one in the morning on Saturday; in reality they only had one night of debauchery. I would see Frank again Sunday, although the state I would find him in was questionable. I knew Frank and his friends had a fondness for overindulgence when it came to drink, and they were no strangers to drugs. Since we began dating I’ve never seen Frank high on anything but weed, but I wasn’t stupid. There were times when I’d gone on girlie weekends away and came home to a blood shot eyed Frank. He was responsible in his usage though; he partook occasionally and he was always able to function the next day so I never asked. If he wanted to keep a little secret to himself I could hardly be offended. I trusted him to not get into trouble, and in spite of the insecurity that niggled at me, I trusted him to remain faithful. I had no intention of hurting myself again so I had no reason to ask him to stay, other than I would miss him and I didn’t want to be alone.   
  
“I’ll be fine. Really. Just have a good time, get drunk and lose some money.”  
  
He smiled at me, seeking reassurance that I was telling him the truth. I returned the smile as sincerely as I could from my seated position on our bed. I wanted him to have fun, and forget about what a burden I was for a while. Maybe he would miss me a little and remember all the things he loved about me. I shut the book I held my hands, placing it on the bed beside me as I focused my attention on Frank, who was standing at the bottom of the bed folding a pair of jeans to place in his bag. He zipped the bag with a sharp pull, before dumping it unceremoniously on the floor.  
  
“What time is Joey coming to pick you up?”   
  
Frank pulled his phone out of his pocket, his eyes flicking to the screen before focusing on me again.  
  
“He said he’d be here in five minutes, which means in about fifteen minutes” he muttered, sighing and running one of his broad hands through his dark hair and biting his lip, probably running through a list of everything he needed to take. I loved it when he bit his lip; it made my mind think about the wonderful things he could do with his mouth. It felt like forever since we last had sex, and him pulling an extremely attractive face just made my frustration worse.  
  
“So, we’ve got time?”   
  
The suggestion was evident in my voice. I’m not going to lie; I’m probably a bigger horn dog than Frank. It may have taken a while for us to finally consummate our relationship in the beginning, but once I was comfortable enough with him we were at it daily until adult life set in. Long work hours had put a slight damper on the frequency, but even on a bad week we had sex at least three times. Then I had a meltdown, and since then Frank has barely touched me. At first I was thankful for the break, but now I was dying to get back into the swing of things. Frank’s smile grew wider, further emphasised by a raised eyebrow and an excited twinkle in his eyes. He looked pleased at the prospect, which only caused my blood to heat up. He didn’t need any more encouragement to crawl on the bed, before he grabbed my leg and pulling me flat on my back. He was on top of me in a flash, his body warm and hard against mine. His lips captured my own in a hot kiss. My body reacted on pure instinct, desperate for the sexual contact I’d been denied for far too long. My hands fisted his hair, tugging on it roughly so I could deepen our kiss. My legs wrapped around his waist, forcing our hips to grind against each other. His hands found their way under my shirt, and before long his calloused fingers were touching my burning skin. They felt glorious against the delicate flesh of my stomach. I couldn’t have held back my moan even if I wanted. His tongue was meeting mine with haste and passion, rendering me unable to do anything but cling to him. My hands gripped the bottom of his top, wasting no time in pulling it off him and forcing our lips to break apart. His fingers pulled at the zip of my jeans impatiently, then hooked themselves on the belt loop, shimmying them over my hips and pulling them off my legs with ease. My hands landed on his belt buckle when the sound of cell phone intruded, earning a string of curses from Frank and a frustrated groan from me. I refused to let Frank move, keeping a tight grip on his belt when he tried to get up.   
  
“Ignore it, they can wait a few minutes.”  
  
“Sorry” Frank mumbled, untangling my hands from his belt and hopping off the bed before I could grab him.   
  
“You’ve got to fucking kidding me!” I snapped, beyond furious as he dug his cell phone from out of his pocket.  
  
“Hey man, I’ll be outside in five.”  
  
I wanted to hit him. The three hundred page book beside me was a tempting weapon; it was close to hand, if I aimed it right it would hurt him, without leaving any marks. I wasn’t a violent person, but I badly wanted to vent my anger at him physically. All I asked was for him to ignore his phone for ten minutes, and he couldn’t do it. His friends were higher on his priority list than fucking his mentally unstable girlfriend.  
  
“We’ll finish when I get back” Frank’s voice was soft, sounding genuinely sorry as he shoved his t short back on and picked up his duffle bag. I just glared in response; I was too angry and upset to do anything else.  
  
“C’mon Grace, don’t be like this. I don’t want to leave while you’re angry at me.”  
  
His eyes were wider than normal, full of innocent sadness; it was the look he gave me whenever he wanted me to do something for him. I hated how it worked every time. I relented, rolling my eyes and throwing him a little smile.  
  
“Have fun.”  
  
He slung his bag over his shoulder, and gave me one last kiss before rushing out the door.  
  
*************  
  
I would like to say that I didn’t sit at home that night, sulking at the prospect of being left on my own but, that would be a lie. I was slouching on the couch, mindlessly watching an episode of ‘The Vampire Diaries’ now that Frank wasn’t around to bitch about it. I don’t care what anybody says, I loved it. Vampires were always a source of fascination for me; the incredible strength, the immortality, the invincibility; they were things I secretly coveted. If I had their power and strength I could get the revenge that I secretly longed for. I wouldn’t have to live my life in fear of what others thought of me. Sure, not being able to go out in the sun would suck, but I saw that as a very small price to pay. Plus, Damon Salvatore has to be the hottest thing on TV. Frank knew full well that, that was the reason for my love of the show. He would glare at the TV if he saw Damon’s perfect features on the screen. Of course, I couldn’t be left in piece when I finally had the opportunity to salivate uninterrupted. I sat up with a frustrated groan when my phone buzzed, but I couldn’t help the smile that graced my face when Gerard’s name illuminated the screen.   
  
' _Star Wars or Lord of the Rings?'_  
  
My fingers were flying across the screen before I fully processed what I was typing.  
  
' I _refuse to choose. Both are excellent.’_ __  
  
' I'm thinking of having a movie marathon, but I can’t decide which one to pick.’  
  
' _Sounds like a good idea; I’m having one myself since Frank’s left me alone for the weekend.'  
  
_ I don’t know why I told him Frank was gone. I felt like I should, like somehow it would lead something. I didn’t want to spend a weekend alone. I know seems suspicious to want to spend time with another guy the minute my boyfriend was out of the state, but I wasn’t going to think about that. If Gerard was free, and I had no plans, there was nothing necessarily untoward about spending time together. Sure, I was confused about the true nature of my feelings for Gerard, but that didn’t mean anything would happen. Anyway, it’s not as if I had asked him if he wanted to meet. I had merely informed him that I had nothing to do. My heart started to pound when half an hour went by without any reply from Gerard. What if he thought I was insinuating something other than an innocent coffee date? What if he didn’t want to spend more time with me, but he was just too polite to say so? What if-  
 __  
‘Meet me at St. Helena’s park at half one.’  
  
It was a question, or a request. He was demanding that I meet him, as though he knew I wouldn’t say no. He was right of course, I had no intention of saying no but the tone made me uncomfortable; it was so similar to Nick’s way of demand and submission. I refuse to let it bother me; Nick has penetrated so many facets of my life, and I wasn’t going to let it him ruin this for me too. Gerard was the one person who I felt true connected with; I wasn’t going to sit back and let this friendship slowly self destruct because of what Nick had done to me.  
  
‘ _I’ll be there.’_  



	11. Chapter Eleven

I spent my morning trying not to get worked up about meeting Gerard. I didn’t feel like myself as I went through every item in my wardrobe three times before I decided on an outfit. I normally didn’t give a shit about my appearance, but like I said, I wasn’t myself. I didn’t want to look like I made too much an effort, which would give off the wrong signal. I also didn’t want to look like I didn’t care about my appearance at all because of course I care, to a certain extent. Not about fashion or the latest trends, but people’s general perception of my attire. I could never leave the house in sweatpants and runners unless I was actually working out, or in dirty, stained clothes like I see so many do on weekends or when they have a bunch of children hanging off them. On the occasional Sunday morning I might see people rushing to the store in their pyjamas and I would cringe in embarrassment for them. I didn’t agree with my mother on a lot of topics but, there was one we agreed on.  People judged you on how you present yourself to the world, and anybody who claims otherwise is either a liar or in denial. Maybe they don’t care about your fashion sense, or if your make up is caked on and extreme. It’s the fact that you put thought into your appearance that sends the right message. If you’re hung over or just generally feeling like crap, wear make up to try and cover it up; don’t show people your weakness. If you’re clothes are falling apart, get new clothes. There are more effective ways to get people to notice you then going outside looking like a slob.

Then, of course, I agonised over makeup. The same principal applied. I didn’t want to look like I was trying to impress him, but the bags under my eyes were hideously noticeable. Should I wear eye makeup, or just cover up the flaws? I could just apply concealer to the dark circles and leave the rest of my skin bare. I wore light make up to work, so I rarely wore it on the weekend unless I was going somewhere that dictated otherwise. Technically, meeting with Gerard didn’t necessarily require me to plaster the stuff on, but he’s also never seen me without it. He’d see the little freckles on my forehead and cheeks that were normally hidden under foundation. Did I want him to see that? Showing what I truly looked like was slightly daunting, but on the other hand I wondered if there was a valid reason for me to cover up a few blemishes that, in reality, he probably care about or notice. They weren’t unsightly or too obvious due to their light colour.

I eventually pull myself together and berate myself for acting like a sixteen year old going on her first date. This was nothing more than friends meeting up to help alleviate a mutual problem. I got dressed, covered up the dark circles and brushed my hair. I checked my reflection, decided that I didn’t look too shabby and thus ending my preparation. I wondered what Gerard had in mind for our…date. The word made me uncomfortable as it suggestion something more intimate, but there was no term that fit the occasion any better. The delay in his reply suggested he had something planned, and it definitely woke my curiosity. The park was a strange place to meet, but then again it was as good as any other place. He was probably sick of the café by now, just like I was. It was a convenient location, but it lost it’s appeal after a couple of weeks. I wondered if he expected me to go over to his place, the idea making me sweat in panic. It made my stomach flutter, which I put down to discomfort at the idea rather than the alternative reason, which was secret anticipation and desire to see where he lived. I tried to distract myself from the disturbing thoughts entering my head by watching more Vampire Diaries. It worked, so well that when I checked the time I realised I had left myself five minutes to reach the park that was twenty minutes away from my apartment. I let out a string of cusses as I rushed around the apartment, making sure everything was off and windows were closed before I raced out the door and ran as quickly as I could.

I was out of breath when I reached the gates of the park, which was filled with children running riot and exhausted parents trying to keep up with them. My watch informed me I was only ten minutes late, not including the time it would take me to actually find him. I walked through the black gates, taking a quick glance around to see if I could spot him without spending the next ten minutes searching through the park. Thankfully he had the sense to wait by a tree to the left of the gate which made it hard to miss him. He was too busy looking at his phone to see me coming, his face a picture of concern. I probably should have text him to let him know I was going to be late, but panic mode took away my common sense. I took the opportunity to catch my breath before he saw me wheezing like I’d just run a marathon. The stitch in my side made me wince from its stinging pain. Of course, my luck dictated that Gerard would find me in that moment. The concerned expression that marred his face only seconds ago was gone, to be replaced by what can only be described as pure, utter glee at my hunched state. I swore I could hear him laugh, but the sound was so high pitched and girlish that I’m certain there’s no way a man with a broken voice could laugh in such a manner. I glared at him with all the hate and embarrassment I could muster, but it didn’t discourage him from picking up the black messenger bag that was at his feet and walking over to me.

“Should I even ask?”

I suppose I should give him credit for at least trying to keep a straight face once he approached me.

“Nope. What’s in the bag?” I ask, straightening up and meeting his gaze.

Gerard rolled his eyes at me.

“What makes you think there’s anything special in it?”

“Because I’ve never seen you with a bag before. What did you bring?”

“Well, before you say or do anything, I want you to let me explain first. Deal?”

He was nervous, I could tell by the way his eyelids fluttered and how he wasn’t looking me in the eye anymore, not directly. It was focused a little to the left. If I’d been mildly interested in the contents of the bag before, I was definitely curious now.

“Alright.”

“Do you remember the last time we went for coffee, and you were talking about how you would take pictures with your father’s camera?”

He spoke cautiously, and with good reason. He anticipated my reaction, which was for the easy smile on my face to disappear instantly. My face was neutral, but even the most socially clueless person could tell the change in my demeanour wasn’t a good one. I didn’t like talking about my father and the guilt on Gerard’s face told me he was aware of this. He paused, waiting for me to say something. I didn’t, I wouldn’t. This was supposed to a pleasant get together, not one of our heart to heart coffee sessions. If he was going to drag the conversation down that direction, I certainly wasn’t going to help him.

“You said that you used to like taking pictures. Well, I was picking up supplies yesterday for my next project when I happened to walk past a store that caught my eye. It had a sale sign outside, and I was bored so I went inside. They were one of those stores that sold fucking everything you could think of. Anyway, I was just browsing around when I found something that made me think of you, so I bought it. I’d like you to have it.”

His pale hands unzipped the black bag, one of them slowly reaching in and quickly retrieving something black and shiny. I knew what it was straight away. I also knew it wasn’t cheap. I gawp at the polished camera in his hand, my mind taking it in. It was a chunky piece of equipment, one that was designed for a professional photographer who knew what they were doing. So many different emotions were going through my mind that I wanted to scream. Flattery was the first and foremost. Even if it had been on sale, it still would have cost a lot of money, which I didn’t have. I couldn’t pay him for it. I was angry that he was so thoughtful. Thoughtfulness is normally a great attribute to have, but this was too much. I felt guilt, because while I appreciated the gesture, I didn’t appreciate the gift itself. I had no desire to take photographs anymore. It was something that I had shared with my father and now that he was gone it had no place in my life anymore. I was young and saw beauty in everything back then. I wasn’t that child anymore. The world didn’t have colour; it was sterile grey and it wasn’t worth wasting one roll of film on, never mind enough that would justify owning the kind of camera Gerard held in his hand. Even if I wasn’t uncomfortable with taking gifts from people, I still couldn’t take this. There was no way I could accept it.

“Gerard, I can’t accept that. It’s too generous.”

“No, it’s selfish. You said you wanted to find something to be passionate about. I want to help you find it. Call it an ego thing if you want. Every artist wants an apprentice.”

“Gerard….I. Can’t. Accept. This. Thank you, sincerely, but I just can’t. I appreciate the gesture, I really do but I can’t take it.”

Gerard was undeterred by the frustration in my voice. He pushed the camera into my hands, his expression akin to a stubborn five year old determined to get what they wanted.

“Yes, you can. It was on sale so I can’t return it, and I already have two cameras so I don’t have any use for it. I bought it for you, so just take it, be grateful and take some goddamn pictures, okay?”

The anger in his voice startled me. He was normally so laid back and pleasant; the tone seemed alien to him. I took a step back without being conscious of my movements.

“Shit, Grace, I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean to sound so angry. I just really want you to have it. I figured you wouldn’t take it willingly, but I really want you to have it. I was thinking it could be a project we could do together. I took photography during college, so maybe I could teach you a thing or two, see how good a teacher I am.  You could build a portfolio.”

I wanted to say no.  Every impulse was telling me that it wasn’t a good idea but, it was hard. His eyes were silently pleading for me to just say yes. He was sincere in his intentions, that much I was certain of, and I didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes if I refused. He really was an artist through and through, and now he wanted me to be his next project. It was a big ask, one that would involve time and energy. I wanted something to do, something creative. The desire to take control of something, to make something that was mine, was appealing. The camera suddenly represented a form of freedom and control that I secretly longed for. The camera couldn’t manipulate my emotions; it couldn’t hurt or disappoint. It did whatever _I_ wanted it to do, without question. There was no equality or battle of wills to contend with. The camera was everything I had ever longed for.

“I can’t afford it Gerard” My voice was soft.

“It’s already paid for. It’s digital so the only cost is printing the pictures.”

“This must have cost a fortune Gerard, I can’t just let you spend that money on me.”

“It’s already spent Grace. Anyway, I already told you it was on sale. I got it half price, so don’t worry about it. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t afford, okay?”

He could see I’d caved in, and it was worth it to see just how pleased he was at his victory.

“Okay, here’s the plan. I’m giving you an hour to walk around and take some photos. I want to see what you’ve got.”

“Now?” I asked, incredulously. This was not how I expected today to go.

“Yes, now. I’ll be here when you get back.”

I stared at him in shock, until he waved me away with a playful push.

“I’m timing you. Go!”

So I went. With no idea what I should do. I mean, of course I knew how to point the camera and take a picture. I switched the camera on and gave myself a few minutes to search through the different modes and settings. Feeling confident enough to use it, I decided to start off in the park. It was a huge city part, and I figured I could easily spend at least half of the given time here if not more. There was a duck pond, lots of dogs running around and of course people. I walked around aimlessly for at least fifteen minutes trying to find something photogenic enough to capture when I finally saw it. It was nothing special at a glance; just a little girl on a swing in the playground. It wasn’t what I saw though. I saw her innocence. She didn’t have any fear in her eyes; there was no sadness in them that suggested her life was anything but filled with love and affection. She was sheltered, and fearless. I wondered how long it would take for that to change. Would it be in a couple of years, when she starts to see her parents aren’t perfect and infallible? Would it be in ten, when she realises that people are cruel and hurtful? Would it be in twenty, when she realises that the world was just a horrible place, filled with misery and disease? It didn’t matter when it would happen. The only certainty was that it would go. But for now, she still retains the childish love for life and I wanted to capture it. I didn’t think about whether it was inappropriate to take her image. It didn’t really matter. I was in the zone, and once the image was taken I found I couldn’t leave the little bubble I was in. My perspective changed. The grey seemed to fade, and I was seeing colour again. The joy I felt all those years came rushing back and I was a high on it. I took another ten photos in the hour and a half that followed. Time didn’t matter. I lost a track of it when it became of no consequence to the task at hand. I couldn’t finish until I had to stop. My feet were exhausted by the nonstop walking, and crouching, and stopping and stalling. My eyes were tired from the lack of sleep, and my body just ached from all the exertion.

I found Gerard near the spot where I’d left him. He was sitting on the ground, leaning against the tree with his knees bent. His hand was moving furiously across the sketchpad on his lap, his tongue poking out from behind his lips in concentration. I didn’t think twice about disrupting him.

“I’m done” I declared, plopping on the ground beside him dramatically.

“Just give me a few minutes.”

“Gerard, I’m tired, and it’s going to rain really soon. Can we just go?”

He took his eyes off his sketchpad to look at me and roll his eyes.

“The rain will hold off for another little while. If you’re tired, lie down. I’ll be done soon.”

I huffed but I didn’t argue any more. I grabbed the coat he had taken off and laid on flat on the grass. He smirked when I curled up on it, closing my eyes and letting out a sigh. The sound of Gerard humming under his breath was soothing, lulling me to sleep when my body decided it deserved some respite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys,
> 
> Big things are on the way. Next chapter things will start taking an interesting turn.
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and if you can spare a few seconds feedback is great.
> 
> Lyra


	12. Chapter Twelve

“Shit, Grace, wake up!”

I felt a hand shake my shoulder roughly; waking me up harshly from the dreamless nap I’d been taking. I turned to lie on my back, trying to remember where I was. I could see tree branches above me, which were looking bare in the autumn weather. Why was I outside? I felt a wet drop land on my cheek, which I wiped away instantly.

“Grace, we have to go. You were right about the rain!”

I sat up and looked to my right, where I saw Gerard packing up his stuff in a panic. I was still a little dazed from the sleep I’d be abruptly taken from. I felt another drop fall on top of my head, shocking me into action. I stood up clumsily, stumbling in my sleepy state. I managed to find my bag when Gerard wrapped a hand around my wrist.

“C’mon. My place is just around the corner.”

We broke into a run, and once we left the shelter of the trees we were pelted with the rain. I was soaked within seconds and I cursed Gerard for not listening to me earlier. I knew it was going to rain but no, he just had to finish whatever the hell he was doing and now I’ll get pneumonia and die, knowing my luck as of late.  I was too focused on keeping up with him to really take in what direction we were heading in and my lack of fitness hit me again after a couple of minutes of running. I could hear Gerard huffing in front of me, signalling that he wasn’t faring much better than me, making me feel a bit better about myself. He wasn’t lying when he said he lived around the corner from the park. We reached the destination within five minutes of leaving the park, which was a rundown looking apartment building. It looked more like a house on the outside; it was the intercom beside the door and the labelled buzzers that gave it away. I didn’t count how many apartments there were but it couldn’t have been more than six or seven. Gerard rooted around his bag for a couple of seconds before procuring his keys and with cold, shaking hands he opened the door and pulled me inside. He slammed the door behind us before leaning against the wooden barrier to the outside world, gasping for the air he desperately needed. I bent forward, leaning with my hands on my knees in an effort to ease the stitch from earlier that returned with a vengeance.

“I told you it was going it was going to rain” I could stop the words tumbling from my lips breathlessly. He turned his attention to me, his hazel orbs meeting my eyes. Instead of firing some smart ass comment back at me or defending himself, he just started laughing. I didn’t know if he was laughing at me or the situation but either way it was infectious. It didn’t help me to recuperate the badly needed oxygen back into my system but it felt so good to just laugh. It seemed like forever since I had an honest to goodness, full body, oxygen depriving, stomach cramping laugh. It turned into a vicious cycle; I was laughing because of him, and my laughing only encouraged him. When he finally had enough he stood up straight and motioned for me to follow him. We climbed two flights of stairs to get to his floor, which only had two apartments. He let me inside first and I was instantly met with a chill of cold air. I was soaked straight through, and coupled with the less than warm temperature of his apartment, I found myself shivering the moment I walked inside.

“The sitting room is just down the hall” he told me, trying to get me to move again. I could see the light peeking through the door at the end of the hall. I hoped the room would be warmer than the hallway, and I thanked the heavens when I opened the door and felt a wave of warm air hit me. I walked into the middle of the room and watched Gerard as he shrugged his messenger bag off his shoulder and onto the ground beside him. He bent down immediately and took his sketch book out of the wet bag, along with the camera. The camera looked pretty dry from where I stood, and Gerard placed it on the floor once he gave it a quick inspection. His sketchbook cover wasn’t so fortunate; I could see watermarks marring the swirl of colours. The pages inside, which I couldn’t see, must have been unaffected by the water. He placed it on top of a radiator to dry but otherwise he didn’t seem too concerned over it. The slightly warmer temperature of the room didn’t stop my shivering, which Gerard finally noticed now that his sketchbook was deemed safe and he was able to focus on me.

“I’ll get you some dry clothes to change into.” He spoke somewhat distractedly and rushed out of the room. I stood aimlessly in the room, afraid to sit down or move about in case I got more of his stuff wet. The room was pretty messy; there were two canvases set up in front of the large window that was the source of natural light for the room. In between the canvasses was a small table which held an assortment of paints and brushes. The green carpet surrounding the area was covered by a large white sheet, which had one or two spots of dark paint on it. His couch looked more like a bed with a crumpled, used looking blanket hanging haphazardly from its frame. The TV remote was sitting on top of it, and on the ground in front of it a used mug and a bowl with milk swimming at the bottom were carelessly left to be trampled on. The TV, a flat screen which was half the size of the one I had at home, was opposite the couch and placed neatly on a TV stand, which doubled as a storage space for his rather extensive DVD collection.  I was about to take a closer look when the sitting room door opened, letting in a cold breeze from the hall.  He was now wearing dry clothes, though his hair was dripping wet. He had a bundle of clothes in his hands, which he promptly handed over to me.

“These are a bit old but they’re clean. The pants might be a bit big but they’re the smallest pair I have.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Uh, first door on the right. I’ll put your clothes in the dryer, they’ll be done in no time.”

“Thanks” I muttered, suddenly feeling awkward.

The situation felt a little surreal. I was in Gerard’s apartment, soaking wet and about to get changed into his clothes. I was about to go into his bathroom and essentially get naked. The realisation that I would be stripping off a few meters away from him was a panic inducing thought. The fact that I was here, alone with him in his apartment, where nobody knew where I was or who I was with, was overwhelming and frightening. I all but fled to the bathroom to hide the fear that threatened to start a panic attack. I thought I had gotten over my aversion to being alone with men; I hadn’t felt this kind of reaction in years. I made sure to bolt the door the second I was in the bathroom. I slid down to the floor, clutching my bent knees as I fought the anxiety attack that threatened to consume me.  I shut my eyes tightly, hoping that by blurring out one of my senses I could get my emotions under control. I started to count numbers in my head, aiming to go for as long as necessary until I felt more in control of myself. It had taken me by surprise and even when I counted to seventy nine and felt a little calmer I was extremely rattled by it. I couldn’t help but wonder if I had regressed by ten years. Was this the start of things to come? Nina was supposed to help me deal with me issues, she was supposed to help me move past the stuff from my past but it seemed like the time spent with her was nothing but a waste of time. I was locked in a bathroom with a frazzled mind and a racing heart that was only beginning to go back to its normal rhythm. Was it normal to trigger like this, without warning or provocation? Deep down I knew the reason why it had happened. The last time I had been completely alone with a man other than Frank, he had pushed me against a wall and put his hands in my underwear. I hadn’t thought much about the incident, not since I had started seeing Nina. I had been focusing more on the abuse I had suffered as a teenager, and of course my suicide attempt. The attack triggered the trip down memory lane but I had disconnected from it. It was merely a final straw in a long overdue meltdown, and as such I hadn’t given much thought to how I felt about it. It was obvious to me now that it had left its mark. I was raging that with one act, Nick had brought everything to the surface, including my old phobias. Gerard was a friend; he was helping me, and I knew I had nothing to fear from him. He had never given me any reason to believe that he would hurt me, or that he had ulterior motives. He was a good guy, just like Frank. I sure as hell wasn’t about to let Nick ruin yet another friendship on me. He had done enough damage, and I had fought too hard to let him win now. I embraced the anger swimming in my veins. The anger was good; anger meant I had something to focus on other than panic. It got me off the floor and though I was still shaking, I was far calmer. I picked up the clothes Gerard had given me and finally inspected them. The t shirt was rather large, and due to my short stature it was more like short dress. The sweatpants he gave me were a faded grey colour. I doubted that he wore them very much and I imagined they were stored at the back of a press, forgotten about until a dire moment of need necessitated for them to come out of its hiding place. I stripped of my top and bottoms, a difficult enough task due to the fabrics clinging to my skin in their wet state. I grabbed a spare towel he’d left folded up neatly on the edge of the bath and dried off the excess water which irritated my skin. I debated whether I should take my bra off or not. It was just as wet as my top but the idea of walking around Gerard’s apartment without it seemed a little inappropriate. The lacy fabric was unpleasant to wear when wet so, my discomfort outweighed the awkwardness. I could hide it inside my top when putting my clothes in the dryer. He would be none the wiser. I left the bathroom and went back to the sitting room where I’d left Gerard. He was searching through his DVD collection and unaware of my return. I cleared my throat, gaining his attention and a smile.

“Hey. I was thinking maybe we could throw on a movie while your clothes are in the dryer?”

“Sure. What were you thinking?”

“I’m thinking Fellowship of the Ring. Any objections?”

“Nah, that sounds good. Where’s your dryer?”

“Oh, it’s down in the basement. How about you set this up and I’ll throw them on?” He stood up and walked over to me, his question more of a demand as he took my clothes out of my hands and handed me the DVD box set.

“I’ll be right back” He was out of the room in a flash, and I prayed that he wouldn’t notice the bra. I was blushing at the thought against my will, which I hoped would go away before he came back. The main menu had just on the screen when he returned, and a quick inspection of his expression didn’t give anything away.

“Do you want a coffee before we start?” he asked, picking up the abandoned mug and bowl left on the floor.

“Yes please. One sugar and creamer if you have it.”

He returned with two steaming mugs, clearing the small table with his paints for us to use.

“Man, I haven’t watched this in forever. It’s such a good movie!” I exclaimed, handing Gerard the remote for him to press play.

“Me neither. This is long overdue.”

He pressed play and the conversation stopped. We were both too engrossed in the movie to deal with idle chatter that would only distract from the cinematic awesomeness on the screen. We occasionally quoted the lines in time with the movie, making us giggle like school girls. The three hours spent watching the movie passed by in blur, but the good kind of blur; the kind where you forget about everything bad in the world and just lose yourself in the fictional world being played out on the screen. It seemed so normal to sit on Gerard’s couch, in Gerard’s apartment, in Gerard’s clothes, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. The fear I’d felt earlier was forgotten about like a fuzzy dream. I couldn’t remember ever being this comfortable around someone before in such a short period of time. I refused to think about the implications of what that meant; it was a road I refused to go down. It wouldn’t matter if it meant something deeper anyway. I love Frank and that was enough. The movie finished and within seconds Gerard was on his feet. It made me wonder if he had ADD or something. He fidgeted a lot and couldn’t keep still for any period of time.

“Your stuff should be dried now. I’ll go check them”

He was out of the apartment in a flash. I didn’t move from my spot as I was far too comfortable. My eyes were drooping when I heard his front door slam shut and I was too tired to even jump in fright.  I didn’t move a muscle until I felt something warm and soft landing on my face. I groaned in annoyance, before pulling my now dried clothes off my face.  Gerard was standing in front of me with a smile on his face, as though throwing clothes on me was fucking hilarious. Maybe it was from his point of view but, for me it was nothing short of mildly annoying.

“Asshole” I croaked, throwing my head back and resting it on the back of the couch to look at the ceiling.

He giggled and flopped down on the couch beside me, leaving what felt like no space in between us. I turned my head to look at him, surprised to see that he was looking at me. I lifted my head up as a wave of awkwardness filled the air. He was far too close to me. I didn’t know if it was intentional, or if he just had a different sense of personal space than I had but, either way, it wasn’t welcome. I was about to create more space between us when I felt his hand cup my cheek.  My brain froze for a split second in shock, before alarm bells starting screeching in my head. This wasn’t good. I was going to move away, I swear I was but, the seconds that I had hesitated must have been interpreted as approval to Gerard and he took the opportunity to seal his lips over mine. They were warm, soft and surprisingly gentle. I should have stopped him then; I should have pushed him away and told him that I wasn’t interested. I didn’t though. The sexual frustration I’d felt over the last few weeks came to the surface.  Instead I encouraged him by returning the pressure, and things spiralled from there.  His hand travelled to clutch at my hair just as I felt his teeth gently nip at my bottom lip. I gave him what he wanted without resistance and he didn’t hesitate to turn the kiss into something more passionate by adding his tongue to the kiss. It didn’t take too long before I found myself lying down on the couch with Gerard on top of me. His hand was exploring under my top, cupping my breasts but he made no move to divulge me of it. My own hands were fisted tightly in his hair, all sense of thought lost to me. He broke the kiss, only to quickly attach his lips to my neck which earned a pleasurable groan from me. Our hips were grinding against each other, like we were a pair of high schoolers with out of control hormones. The hand that was up my top started to trail a path down my stomach, stopping short of the top of my pants, teasing me mercilessly. They lingered there, stroking the sensitive skin. It felt like an eternity before they finally found their way underneath and stroked me over my underwear.

Then the reality of what I was doing hit me. This wasn’t Frank. I shouldn’t be doing this. It was a though a switch had been turned on in my mind, allowing me to fully see what I was doing.

“Wait, stop.”

Panic was evident in my voice, causing Gerard to jump off me as though I’d electrocuted him with my words. I scrambled off the couch immediately, landing on the floor in a heap. The only sound that filled the air was our laboured breathing as we stared at each other. Gerard’s expression was almost painful to watch; he looked hurt and wounded, while I imagined my face was nothing short of a picture of shock and confusion. I couldn’t look at him anymore. I grabbed my clothes and ran to the bathroom, tears falling down my cheeks as I locked the door behind me. I threw Gerard’s clothes to the floor, flinging them far away from me as possible, as though they were tainted by what I’d done. I dressed faster than I’d ever dressed before. I didn’t care if it was still pouring out of the heavens; I had to get out of the apartment. My plan was to leave without saying another word to Gerard. The burgeoning friendship was now destroyed. A line was crossed and there was no way to fix it. Unfortunately for me my bag, which included my house keys, were still in the living room. With a feeling of trepidation, I left the safety of the bathroom to grab my stuff. Maybe if I was lucky Gerard would have the sense to not be there.

I entered the living room and found Gerard was still there, pacing the room in anxiety. I didn’t say a word as I made a beeline for my bag which was resting on the floor beside the couch.

“Grace wait” he pleaded, his voice stricken with angst.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you Gerard. It was a mistake, and I think its best we leave it at that.”

I shouldered my bag distractedly as I fought against the need to break down into tears. I grabbed my still damp coat but I didn’t even attempt to throw it on. I tried to scurry out of the room but Gerard followed me out into the hall.

“Grace, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it, okay. I just…would you just listen to me for a minute!”

He grabbed my wrist, jerking me to a halt in the middle of the hallway.

“I’m sorry” he continued, his hazel eyes glassy with tears and I found that I couldn’t look away.  “I just…ever since I met you I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head all the time. I spent so long wishing I was dead. I had so much anger and hate inside me, and I wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep and never wake up again. Then I met you and I feel like I have a reason to wake up in the morning. You’re the only person I’ve ever told my darkest secret to and you didn’t even flinch. You’re the only person who’s ever understood what I want through. I know you have a boyfriend, and I’ve been trying so hard to push my feelings aside and deny the truth but it’s getting harder every time I see you. I love you. So fucking much, and it hurts because I know you’ll never be mine. Even though he doesn’t make you happy, you’ll never leave him, not for me.”

I didn’t have any words that would comfort him. He wanted me to say I loved him too, or to give him some hope that something could happen between us. Sorry would be useless and meaningless. So I didn’t say anything. I ripped my arm out of his reach and shook my head at him, telling him my answer without saying the words. I didn’t stay to hear anything else. I walked out of the apartment, shaking like a leaf as I flagged a cab down in the pouring rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Who saw that coming? Was Grace right to run away like that?
> 
> Thoughts are always appreciated.Thanks to everyone who had commented so far. 
> 
> Lyra xx


	13. Chapter Thirteen

I heard Frank’s key slide into the keyhole and the melodic clanging of metal against metal that signalled his return. I should have been happy to see him again. I should have been off the couch the very second I heard the familiar sound of the door opening. It should have been a happy reunion after spending a couple of days apart to sort our heads out and try to fix the damage I caused to our relationship. As he walked in the door I should have been pouncing on him with delirious excitement and pent up sexual frustration. I probably should have been dressed in something sexy, like a short dress or a mini skirt that barely covers the scandalous lingerie underneath. Right now, I should have been aching for him to fuck me against the door as an “I missed you so much/ I’m glad you’re home/ I’m so sorry for being such a fuck up” present. But that was not the case.

The reality is that I was glued to the couch, dressed in the pyjama’s I’d worn since I came home drenched from the rain. I hadn’t moved from said couch since I’d showered, dressed and planted myself on the piece of furniture. The television was on, with its bright screen and slightly too loud sound but I wasn’t paying attention to anything it had shown. I haven’t slept all night, and it had taken everything in my power not to take some action to block out the anger and self hate that swam in my veins. I thought about buying some alcohol to drown out the guilt and shame but I knew there weren’t enough bottles of vodka in the world that would help me forget. I even briefly considered picking up the razor again, until I remembered that Frank had thrown all of them out and all I had was hair removal cream to keep myself hair free. Anyway, the last time I resorted to using it as a coping measure it had caused more problems than it solved.  In the end, I decided that I deserved everything I was feeling; I didn’t deserve a reprieve from the pain. I should suffer for my sins. I had done the one thing I never thought I would ever be capable of, and it was hard for me to process. I had always been a loyal person and now I had to explain to the person I loved most in the world that I had done the unthinkable. I didn’t even know how I could begin that conversation. I had caused him so much pain and anguish already, and now I was going to put the final nail in the coffin that had become our relationship. The thought that I was about lose Frank was the worst pain I had ever felt in my life. I would go through every night with Nick again just so that I wouldn’t have to feel what I’m feeling right now. I knew he wouldn’t forgive me. Frank had seen his own parents go through a messy divorce due to infidelity, resulting in a difficult childhood for him as he went from house to house every few days and dealt with two parents who couldn’t stand to look at each other or be in the same room without snide comments being thrown around. It had scarred him emotionally and the effects could be seen to this day. Frank had never quite forgiven his father for his mistake even though they have a close relationship. I knew that Frank would let go of almost anything, but not this. It would break his heart, and his trust in me. Frank was a crutch for me and I honestly wasn’t sure if I could survive without him.

“Hey baby” he greeted me, a smile plastered on his face as he threw his bag down on the ground upon his entrance into the sitting room. His skin was slightly paler than usual and I could see his eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot from his trip. His clothes were a little worse for wear and his dark hair was messed up from all the travelling. His smile faded quickly as his intuition kicked in and registered the sight in front of him. He knew as well as I did what my reaction should have been to his arrival. His large eyes blinked as he surveyed the scene, his brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to make some sense of it. He was thinking about how he should approach the situation, and what words he should use to avoid triggering another breakdown. I could tell he was still a little under the influence of drink, and possibly something else, and his brain was working a little overtime to try and figure it all out. He had no idea what I was about to tell him. That was a scenario that didn’t even enter his mind. He trusted me and had absolute faith in me and my fidelity to him. In all our time together he had never had any reason to doubt me or my love for him. It was killing me inside to know that I was about to rip that trust apart with a few words. A few minutes of weakness and stupidity were about to take away the best thing that had ever happened to me and I knew that I would never ever forgive myself for it. I couldn’t even think about Gerard without wanting to tear my skin off. I wasn’t even angry at him; the blame for this was solely on me. I couldn’t think about him because I would only feel more guilt over how I had left him. Frank was my concern right now and how I was going to break it to him. The pain in my chest was getting sharper with every passing second and I knew that if I waited any longer it would burst out of me.

“Grace, what’s wrong? What happened?”

He stepped closer to me, his face etched with concern and I snapped. The tears that I’d been suppressing since yesterday couldn’t be contained anymore, and I started sobbing with every ounce of pain and suffering in me. Frank was sitting beside me within seconds, wrapping his strong arms around me for what would probably be for the last time. The thought made me cry harder, and my hands reached out to clutch his t shirt in distress.

“Sush, baby it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s gonna be okay. I’m here now.”

The words were spewing from his lips with a loving caress but it didn’t do anything to calm me down. Instead it only caused me more pain as he tried to soothe me, when I knew I didn’t deserve his warm embrace or his calming words.  After ten minutes of trying to talk to me he realised that his words weren’t helping so he just held me and let me sob it out. I held onto him with the tightest hold I could muster, knowing that this was going to be the last time.

‘ _Only if you tell him._ ’

The thought hit me suddenly. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that I couldn’t tell him what had occurred. My past was one thing to hide but otherwise I had been open and honest for the most part (if I excluded my friendship with Gerard). I had kept Nick’s abuse a secret because I didn’t want his view of me to change if he managed to see past Nick’s façade and believe me. It was in the past and it couldn’t be changed whether he believed me or not. Nick would never be punished for what he did, and I had no desire to drag my mother and stepfather into a situation they couldn’t fix even if they could believe that Nick was a monster underneath his expensive clothes and good looks. Nothing good or positive could come out of the revelation. Much like the situation I was in now. Would be it be wrong to keep one more secret?  My head started spinning as I considered whether it was morally acceptable to not tell him. I had no intention of betraying him again. I would be destroying what we had over one stupid, silly, thoughtless mistake. Both our lives would essentially be destroyed because of my actions. In a strange sort of twisted way, telling him was immoral and cruel. I would be throwing everything we had together back in his face. I would only be telling him to relieve myself of the guilt that overwhelmed me; it was a selfish act when I looked at it from another point of view. I would hurt him just so I could tell myself that I was an honest person. I didn’t even realise I had stopped crying as I battled with my conscience over what was right. Surely, in the years to come, it would fade into a blurry memory and what had happened with Gerard wouldn’t even matter anymore.

“Baby?”

Frank’s low voice reminded me that he was here. I had to make a choice, here and now, on whether I should tell him or not. I couldn’t breathe while I weighed the decision. Honesty would lead to both of us being miserable and unhappy. The lie would leave me with the weight of the betrayal on my shoulders alone. Frank would be blissfully unaware of what I had done. He would be happier if I kept it to myself.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was about” I lied, curling my face into his chest in the hope that he wouldn’t see through the lie.

I was met with silence but I felt the muscles in his arms tense.

“Are you sure?”

“It was just a bad day. I was missing you and I just…got overwhelmed. I’m okay.”

He let out a long suffering sigh. I panicked, suddenly afraid of an argument breaking out. I pulled his face to mine, kissing him with urgency in the hope that I could distract him. It worked, and within minutes we were on the bed, with Frank on top of me. His mouth never left mine while he was in me but his kisses were rough, just like his short, frantic thrusts. It was far from unpleasant but I could feel the undercurrent of anger in his movements and it worried me. It was over far too quickly and the tension was still thick in the air as we lay beside each other, trying to steady our breathing.  I waited for Frank to cuddle me like he normally did, but with a sinking heart I realised he was lost within his own thoughts.

“We can’t go on like this Grace.”

The words had an instantaneous effect on me. My heart stopped beating and all the air I’d struggled to regain left my lungs.

“I want to help you, but I can’t when you keep on lying to me” he continued, either unaware or uncaring at the pain the words caused me.

“I’m not lying” I pleaded pathetically, and even I wouldn’t have believed me.

Frank sat up, towering over my still lying form. His eyes were blazing with intensity and I knew I was in trouble. I had pushed him to a breaking point and I wasn’t sure if I could fix it.

“You tried to kill yourself Grace. One day everything is fine and the next, I find you in the bathroom in a pool of blood. I try to talk to you about it but all I get is a brick wall and resistance. I hoped that getting you to talk to somebody else would help but I just feel like you’re pulling away from me more and more every day. You don’t come home after your appointment with Manning and whenever I ask where you’ve been you won’t answer me. You’re on your phone all the time texting god knows who and you barely speak two words to me anymore. I had to stop myself from checking your phone just so I could get some insight into what the hell is going on with you. I’m trying to deal with this but I can’t when you don’t give me anything to work off.  How much longer am I expected to sit on the sidelines while you drift away from me, huh? What is it you want from me?”

“Frank, I’m sorry, okay? I’m just dealing with some stuff right now-”

“That’s what I’m talking about right there. What is it you’re dealing with? What the hell is so terrible that you can’t confide in me? We’re supposed to be in this together but now I feel like it’s you versus me.”

The tears welled up in my eyes when I looked at his face. I didn’t realise until then that he was hurting just as badly as I was. He thought I didn’t trust him. The worst part was that he was right. I didn’t trust that he would believe me, or that he would stay with me after I told him the horrible truth about who I really was. I was tired of the lies just like he was. I had held it back for so long, and I realised now that I was going to lose him if I didn’t tell him what happened with Nick. I was in a lose-lose situation, and there was no perfect outcome or scenario no matter what I did. If I denied that anything was wrong any longer, he would walk out the door. If I told him about Gerard, he would walk. If I told him about Nick…maybe, just maybe, he would believe me. Maybe it wouldn’t change things. That was all I had now. Maybes, hard choices and guilt. I swallowed the lump in my throat and shut my eyes tightly. I couldn’t speak the words while looking at him. My tongue felt dry, trying to prevent me from saying the words I never wanted to say to Frank. I had spent the last few years avoiding this and now that it had come I found it impossible to speak. My heart was palpitating with fear and I was vaguely aware of that my entire body was shivering. Nothing about this was fair right now. I only had myself to blame though, and that was the hardest part to swallow. This moment had been brought about because of my own weakness and cowardice. I had failed to fight Nick as a child. I had failed to fight him as an adult. I had let the failure consume me and I reacted accordingly. Now I had to deal with the consequences of having Nick get the best of me once again.

“Nick used to abuse me when I was younger.”

The words hurt my throat. It was as though they were laced with poison, designed to hurt and infect. Frank stilled, his face dangerously neutral as he took in my words.

“What kind of abuse?”

“Almost every kind you can think of…emotional, sometimes it was physical. Mostly it was sexual. Every night he’d come into my room and do whatever it was his twisted mind could come up with.”

“How long did it last for?”

I didn’t want to go into any more details but I had opened the gates for questions. There was no point in avoiding it now. His curiosity was natural, and though I wanted to scream that the details didn’t matter, I knew they did.  Not to me, but to him. He needed answers.

“It started when I was twelve and it lasted until he went to college. I never told anyone about it. He told me nobody would believe me, and he was right. He was this perfect golden child, and I was the poor, screwed up child who had issues because her dad had topped himself rather than deal with his problems like a man.”

“Grace, I-”

“For years I was okay. I met you and everything was okay” I continued, desperate to get it all out now. “Then the night of my mother’s party…he followed me when I went to the bathroom. He…he tried to hurt me again. I felt so fucking weak, like I was twelve years old all over again. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to admit what had happened. That night changed something in me. I feel like he finally broke me.  He finally won and now I’m going to lose you.”

I felt Frank’s hands pulling me up and into his lap, where he held onto me tightly without saying a word. He was quiet and though his actions seemed comforting and reassuring, I knew they weren’t. His embrace seemed detached, and his silence told me all I needed to know.  I was going to lose him now. Or worse, he would feel compelled to stay with me.

“I’m sorry” his voice was choked with emotion when he finally spoke. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. If I’d known…fuck, I shook that fucker’s hand and talked to him about football and all this time…I’m so fucking sorry.”

I felt tears land on my cheek that weren’t my own. My own barely contained sobs broke free as we clung to each other, and in that moment I knew things would never be the same between us ever again.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys,
> 
> So I hoped you enjoyed the chapter. How do you think Frank will handle Grace's revelation? Was Grace right to not tell Frank about what happened with Gerard? Feedback and opinions are always welcomed!
> 
> Lyra 
> 
> P.S, a big shout out to pixiewayro for taking on the role of beta for my stuff for now. Hopefully from here on in you'll see less stupid mistakes due to careless/impatient typing!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the next chapter guys, posted a bit later than planned. I hope you enjoy it anyway, and please leave feedback!
> 
> Lyra

“Grace?”

Nina looked at me, clearly concerned at my obviously distressed state. She was leaning forward in her seat, as though by closing the physical distance between us she could somehow reach me. I’ve been here for about five minutes, but all my answers were short and to the point. My problem was that I wanted to talk about what had happened about as much as I _d_ _idn’t_ want to talk about it. Everything was going wrong in my life and I didn’t know what I was clinging onto anymore. Nina looked at me, her eyes wide and earnest, begging me to open up and explain the events that caused my sleepless night. My problem wasn’t with the likely possibility that Nina would judge me for what had happened with Gerard, and not telling Frank about it. I mean, of course it’s a little part of why I’ve been hunched on the familiar couch, nobody likes admitting that they did something so utterly horrible, disgraceful and socially unacceptable. The real problem was saying the words out loud. If they were spoken, it was real. The words would be an admission of guilt, an acknowledgment that I had betrayed Frank in the worst way possible in a moment of pure abandonment, and hurt Gerard in the process.

I had seen Gerard come in just as I was entering Nina’s office, and the sight made my stomach drop and my eyes water with sickening shame. He hadn’t shaved, and his clothes were a mess. His hair probably hadn’t seen a brush in the day and a bit since I’d walked out of his apartment without a backward glance, another thing that I couldn’t help but hate myself over. His eyes were bloodshot red and raw, to the point where I was surprised he could open them at all. I obviously wasn’t the only person who hadn’t slept in the hours since the incident. When his eyes locked on mine for the brief seconds I saw him, the hot pain and anger were visible in the normally kind and relaxed hazel orbs. They were accusatory, blaming me for the anguish he felt, whether it was justified or not. I had to accept that I was the bad person in this situation; I was the unintentional villain in the story and I had no idea if I could fix it, or even if I should try. Maybe Gerard would pick himself up quicker if I continued to stay away from him and leave him in peace. I really needed to believe that. Guilt never rested easy on my shoulders and now I had more than I could handle in a lifetime. Frank was still in shock from the news I had dropped on his lap without warning the previous night. It wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t slept the night before either. He had wrapped his arms around me all night and held me close to his chest,but his mind hadn’t been there. I had tried to talk to him, to get some sort of reaction from him, but I couldn’t reach him in the daze he had let himself get lost in while he processed the new reality of who I was. I didn’t know how he felt about it all. All I knew for certain was that my fear would come to pass; already something had changed between us. I couldn’t explain it, but I just felt it in the air between us, it was thick, heavy and it was going to smother us until all the air and fight was taken from our lungs. Frank had no idea how he should react, but when he eventually figured it out there was no way things would go back to the way they were before I started this chain of events that led us to where we were now. I could feel the distance between us stretching even further every slow, aching second, and I feared one day I would wake up to find he wasn’t there at all. The panic was making my heart race, and I had no idea how I managed to get through work without any fuck ups. My head wasn’t in it, because my heart felt like it was being ripped out of my chest, leaving me to bleed out dry with no one to help me.

“Grace, you’re obviously upset about something. I’m here so you can talk about these things.” Nina sighed, frustrated with me. I couldn’t blame her. It was only a matter of time before she got sick of me too.

“I nearly slept with Gerard, who told me that he loved me, and instead of telling Frank about it, I told him about Nick. Everything is a mess and I don’t know what to do.”

I have to admit, I felt a certain amount of shameful pride at managing to stun Nina into temporary speechlessness. Her jaw visibly dropped with a comic effect and it took a few seconds before she gathered her bearings and responded in a professional manner.

“How about we start at the beginning… What happened with Gerard?”

“We spent time together on Saturday, just hanging out, you know? We went to the park, and he gave me a camera, because I told him how I used to take photos as a child with my dad’s camera. He told me that he wanted me to find something I could be passionate about, and he meant it. He said he wanted to teach me. Afterwards, I went to his apartment, we watched a movie, and I don’t know. I was just so frustrated with Frank! He’s been so distant lately, and it’s been weeks since he touched me, and he got me worked up before he left and it just…Gerard kissed me and it felt good to actually _feel_ wanted. He didn’t look at me like I was broken, and he didn’t touch me like I was fucking fragile or something. It just happened and I know it shouldn’t have happened but it did. I stopped it before it got too far, then he told me that he loves me out of fucking nowhere.  I told him it wouldn’t happen and I left. I was going to tell Frank about it when he came home yesterday, I tried to. But I was so fucking scared, because I knew, I just know he would leave me if he found out. Even though I stopped it, he wouldn’t forgive me. He knew something was wrong, though, and I panicked and it just came out about Nick, because I had to tell him something. I didn’t plan on telling him, and now I think I’ve lost him anyway. He hasn’t spoken since then,  and I feel horrible that I dumped this on his lap because I was afraid of telling him about what I’d done. I mean, I made one mistake and now I could lose everything, and I just thought that maybe it was better to keep him in the dark instead of ruining everything because I couldn’t deal with the guilt.”

Nina was silent the entire time I rambled, letting me get it all out without interruption. She was still confused as fuck, trying to hang onto every word that spilled from my mouth, It was difficult for her to make sense of it all, but once I had started  I couldn’t stop. I only wanted to say everything once, and I figured this was just like a band aid. Do it quickly, and it will hurt less. Of course, I knew it was a lie really. The truth always hurts, every fucking time, and the truth was that my recent actions showed me to be the worst kind of human being there was. I was a coward; a hideous, selfish coward who still lived in a bubble of fear, where only the source of my fear had changed. My childhood fear of Nick had transferred into a fear of myself, and the knowledge that I was responsible for my actions. Nobody else was at fault for the way that I fell so easily into Gerard’s embrace or for not telling Frank what had happened.

“So, you put your infidelity down to sexual frustration then?”

I wanted to hit Nina right then. Her tone was so condescending, full of unspoken speculation.

“Yes.”

“Grace, there’s no point in coming here if you’re not going to be honest. I’m not here to judge you, I’m here so that you can talk about how you really feel. Don’t waste my time and your money by doing otherwise.”

I glared, wishing I could say that it wasn’t true, that there wasn’t more to what happened than just pure sexual frustration. It was a lie, though, a lie that I wanted to bury in the sand, deep down so that even I wouldn’t see it anymore.

“I…” I swallowed nervously “I don’t know how I feel about Gerard. I love Frank with all my heart, but Gerard…he doesn’t make me feel so fragile. I kept a mask on with Frank, he never knew the real me, the one that’s full of anger and hate and secrets. I kept all of that buried because I wanted to be happy with him, but things have been tough ever since…that night. Now the mask is gone, and he’s slipping further away from me every day. Gerard has only ever seen the real me, and he never judged me for it.So, yes, there’s something there. He’s attractive, he’s smart, and he’s funny. There’s definitely a connection between us, but I don’t know how far that goes. I don’t want to know. I have no intention of talking to him again, anyway, so it doesn’t matter anyway, does it? I made a mistake out of frustration, and it’s not one I’m gonna make again. I want to make things work with Frank. I want us to be happy again. I just want things to go back to the way they were before I fucked up.”

I sounded desperate and pathetic, even to my own ears. Nina’s composure was back to her normal, neutral self. She appraised me with her narrowed eyes, sitting up straight and gazing at me with a stern look.

“Grace, have you told Frank about how he makes you feel? Have either of you tried to make a positive step to get past this rough patch? You told me he’s tried to talk about it, but you haven’t reciprocated. You made a start yesterday, so maybe now is the time to do that.”

I bit my lip and nodded.

“Do you think we’ll make it?”

My voice cracked as the words slipped out, desperate and pitiful. I felt like I was clutching at straws, hoping that just by her saying so, things would be okay with Frank, even if it took some time to get there. I could bear it of I knew we’d be okay in the end. The idea of a future without Frank was absolutely fucking terrifying and beyond real comprehension. A future without him just didn’t seem right.

“I can’t give you any certainties, Grace, I can only give you advice. Before things can work themselves out, you have to figure _yourself_ out. You’ve spent so long hiding behind a façade, and because of that you’re only beginning to deal with your issues now. The foundation of your relationship wasn’t necessarily a lie, but you’ve hidden a part of who you are. Your relationship with Frank is at a crossroads right now, and the decisions you make now are going to affect what direction you two go down. You’ve told Frank about Nick, and that’s a good start. It’s a big step, and I’m proud of you, but things will never go back to how they were. Once you open up it’s difficult to move forward unless you remain open and honest. You and Frank can get past this as long as you reach out to him. If you want things to work you _need_ to start communicating. You’ve been using Gerard to provide the emotional support you’ve been afraid to seek from Frank. It’s natural to attach yourself to someone who has a similar background, it’s what makes support groups so successful. How do you feel about breaking off contact with Gerard?”

“It sucks, just like it would with any other friend. He was there for me more than most of my friends, he cared. I just feel so guilty. He doesn’t have much contact with other people since he gave up drinking and I hate that he mightn’t have anyone to talk to now, someone that he can be completely honest with. He looked terrible when he came in, like he hasn’t sleep. I don’t want to abandon him, especially if he’s going to hurt himself, but I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I?”

“Certainly. If you feel that a friendship with him will be emotionally draining on either one of you, then of course you need to step back. He’s a big boy who’s responsible for his own life and how he decides to run it. Don’t confuse guilt and sympathy with obligation.”

I replayed the words in my mind, hoping it would relieve some of the pressure in my chest. I wanted them to erase the uncomfortable ache that came to the surface when I saw Gerard. Her words should have been my absolution in regards to Gerard. He could take care of himself and it wasn’t my business if he had a hard time accepting that I didn’t return his love. It didn’t take away the nagging feeling in my gut, the one that kept replaying the desperate words he spoke before I had walked away. It didn’t take away the doubt that I felt, that I’d been overly harsh. The sense of obligation to try and fix things, to at least end things on a better note wasn’t easy to shrug away. He deserved closure, I owed him that much.

By the time I left the office I’d decided to at least talk to him once more. I wanted to ease my conscience, and that could only happen by having one last conversation with Gerard. I needed to know that he would be okay, that he wasn’t going to do something stupid because I’d been callous. I didn’t know if he’d even want to see me, the way he’d looked at me when he came in suggested that I wasn’t his favourite person at the moment. Not that I could blame him, he was perfectly entitled to be angry with me. I could only hope that he’d push it aside and listen to me. The waiting room felt too stuffy for my liking, it was claustrophobic and tense, so I decided to wait outside the building for him. I was anxious the entire time, and after five minutes of waiting I was afraid that I’d missed him. I was considering going back upstairs to check when he finally came out, a cigarette already lit and ready to go. He stopped, gazing at me with that intense, penetrating look that only he could give. His blank expression gave nothing away, letting me squirm.

“I thought maybe we should talk?” I eventually ventured, cringing inwardly when I couldn’t keep the discomfort out of my voice.

“Now you wanna talk?” His response wasn’t angry or accusatory. It was strangely void of any emotion, and it only made me flush with shame.

“I know I reacted badly, I accept that. You have every right to be angry at me.”

“I’m glad I have your permission to be angry.”

I sighed, quickly realising that I wasn’t going to get anywhere. If he didn’t want to talk, there was nothing I could do. I was extending an olive branch, and if he didn’t want to take it that was his choice.

“Fine. You don’t want to talk, that’s okay. I just…I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you. You were a good friend and I’m sorry for my part in what happened. We made a mistake, one I regret, but I really wish we could still be friends. It’s all I have to offer, but you’ll always have my friendship, if you want it.”

He raised an eyebrow at my response, but the anger that flashed in his eyes made me flinch.

“You know, I had a lot of time to think over the last couple of days. I replayed what happened in my head a million times, over and over, trying to see how I could have picked up the signals so wrong, that I was stupid for thinking that maybe you could feel something for me too. Here’s the thing though; I don’t think I did. You wanted what happened just as much as I did. You feel something for me too, you just don’t want to admit it, and that’s why you freaked out. If you really loved your boyfriend you would never have let it happen, and you certainly wouldn’t have run away the way you did. You think that might make me feel a bit better about it, but it doesn’t. It makes it all the worse, because you’d rather be in a relationship with a guy who doesn’t even make you happy anymore than give yourself a real chance with someone who actually sees the real you. You’d prefer to run scared and act like I mean nothing to you. So, you can take your higher moral ground and keep it. Go live a miserable life with the guy you pretend to love. See how happy a lifetime of lies makes you.”

His words were vicious and they cut me like a thousand knives pressed against my skin. They physically wounded me.The pain in my chest was real, and I didn’t know how I managed to keep breathing as the words were flung at me with venomous contempt. He wanted to hurt me, to cut me open and expose me, and he achieved it. I didn’t even notice the tears that leaked from the corners of my eyes. His anger seemed to fade momentarily, the look of pain and regret fleeting, before he shook his head and left me standing there a broken mess.

 

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

I was thankful that I had work to lose myself in over the next few days. The firm had a couple of high profile cases going on, forcing me to work overtime with the amount of pre-trial preparation needed. Normally, I would complain about starting at eight in the morning and not going home until seven thirty that evening - tired, drained and distracted. Work was the only part of my life that wasn’t completely ripped apart, open and raw when I thought about it. Gerard’s words had permeated my brain, and it was all I could think about whenever I was alone and free to cry to my heart’s content. They had wounded me deeply, and stung like vinegar poured on an open cut. The fact that his words weren’t spoken in anger, but from a place of self-righteous truth, was what made them hard to process and accept. They made me doubt everything I believed about my relationship and what my feelings really were towards Frank. He was wrong about one thing; I loved Frank. Even if he was right about me having feelings for him on some level and Frank not making me happy anymore, _that_  he was wrong about. Sure, things weren’t perfect now, and maybe our relationship was coming to a slow, painful death, but none of that invalidated the genuine love I held for Frank, and would remain to have for him irrespective of what the future held for the two of us. I wouldn’t be clinging onto him with so much desperation if I didn’t. My parents had been in love, and while I was a cynical person in many regards, I believed in fighting for something as beautiful and painful as love. I had told many lies in my life, but that was not one of them. Sure, I had doubted Frank and whether he would stay with me once the truth was out from the very beginning of our relationship but that didn’t mean what we had wasn’t real. I had hidden a part of me from him since the moment we met, I’ll admit, but we had connected the minute we met, and I wasn’t going to let Gerard’s words take that away from me. I remembered that day so well, like it was yesterday.

_I was at a frat party on campus, which_ _, like all the others_ _, had too much booze going around_ _, and_ _not enough people who had the sense_ _to be responsible with their intake. It was a typical night from my point of view; I was drunk before I even made it to the frat house. I was geared for another night of senseless debauchery and self_ _-destruction with the help of my roommate, who disappeared within seconds of walking in the door to find some weed. I was dressed way more conservatively than the rest of the girls in attendance in my jeans, flat shoes and a girl_ _-cut Misfits band t-shirt. By this stage_ _,I was using booze as a substitute for the razor I was no longer able to use in secrecy. Being clean from cutting fooled me into believing I was getting better, when in fact I only replaced one distraction with another, more dangerous, habit. I had gone outside, dying for fresh air and eager to escape some creep who had been watching me the whole night. I had slowed my drinking down from hard shots to sipping beer when I saw how he had looked at me with leering blue eyes that reminded me of Nick the second I caught a glimpse of them , fearful that he would try to hurt me like Nick used to. After an hour of stalking_ _, he was making his way over to me when I panicked and ran outside, because being outside felt far safer than being inside a crowded room waiting for his inevitable approach. It was a dry, clear night and the moon was shining brighter that I’d ever seen it before. The g_ _arden out front contained a scattering of small groups of people smoking, which was banned inside. Frank had been sitting on the grass, taking a drag from his cigarette and talking to a girl_ _I recognised from one of my classes the first time I laid eyes on him. It was instant attraction on my end; even in the glow of the moonlight I could make out his dark hair, nose piercing and boyish grin. Nicole recognised me and waved me over, and for once I was happy to be in her company if it meant the creep from earlier would leave me alone. She didn’t wait for me to sit down before she opened her mouth, gushing words at such a high speed_ _, I’m surprised I was able to hear them properly._

_“I was just telling Frank here about how awful our American literature class is. He’s thinking about transferring out of philosophy; tell him what a big mistake he’s making!”_

_I saw how he eyed me up and down, and I was surprised when I blushed instead of running away like the frightened little girl I was inside. If any other guy had done it_ _, I would have walked away without so much as a glance back or an apology. It was one of those things that couldn’t be explained_ _, but I was instantly intrigued against my will. I sat down, determined to keep our eye contact and prove to myself that I wasn’t fazed by his good looks and disarming smile. I tried so hard to not be the first to break it; the_ _n he winked at me and I couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes were so intense_ _, I swore he was seeing right through me, like my skin was transparent and my insides were on show just for him to see. His eyes were shining with amusement, pleased that he had finally broken through the confidence I tried to fake._

_“The professor is a complete douche. It wouldn’t be worth it, just stick with philosophy.” For the life of me I couldn’t figure out how I uttered those words coherently. I was looking him in the eye again, my gaze defiantly confident in contrast to the blush blazing my cheeks. I only wished I knew how to make him blush the same way._

_“I don’t know about that. The company might make up for it.” His voice had an immediate effect on me. I shivered, out of fear or pleasure I didn’t know_ _._ _More than likely_ _, it was a mix of the two.  There was a definite connection between us_ _,and it scared the hell out of me. There was something so calm and relaxed about him, he gave out good vibes that made me trust him even though I didn’t know him._

_“Nice top. I take it you’re a fan?” He changed the topic, ignoring Nicole._

_“Yeah, big time. One of my favourite bands, actually.”_

_“Me too. Not often I meet a fellow fan.”_

_There was that smile again. It was so utterly endearing and charming, and suddenly I realised I had to get out of there before I did something foolish, like hear more stuff that would make me want to know him better. I knew this was something that couldn’t end well. I was dirty and broken, and so not available to anyone, let alone a guy who was out of my league. I would never be worthy of someone like him. He was smart enough to get into college, he was handsome, engaging and apparently had a similar taste in music to me. He was too fucking perfect, just like Nick. That was what got me standing up with a murmured “Nice to meet you” and scarpering off into the safety of the house_ _, with no intention of ever seeing him again._

That wasn’t the end of it, of course. Frank transferred into my class days later. Back then he pursued me relentlessly, taking every opportunity he could to spend more time with me, even if it was just sitting beside in the lecture hall. Eventually, after the fifth time he asked me on a date, I gave in, with very little expectations on my end. I searched for a fault in his character, of any kind, in the following weeks, but I turned up empty. I tried to push him away, and held off on any sort of intimacy, believing that he would eventually get bored of me if I didn’t give in . I never let my fear show or let my guard down at any stage. In spite of how hard I tried, I fell head over heels for him, like that stupid Alanis Morrisette song. He knew me better than anybody else in the world, and that meant everything to me. Okay, so he didn’t know much about my family or my past, but I preferred to keep it that way. When I told him about my father’s suicide, he had tried to talk about it with me, but I evaded every attempt in my shame and anger. So much of my past was kept hidden in the dark, selfishly guarded.So, in the hope that I could pretend it wasn’t real, I never spoke about it to anybody. I didn’t want to be the victim, or the liar to people who wouldn’t believe me. It was such an easy choice at the time; it didn’t feel like much of a choice at all, in all honesty. There was no one moment when I decided to lock my past away in the darkest part of my mind for no one to see. It was an instinctive self-preservation technique, one that was flawless and perfect with no casualties. I truly believed it was the best thing for me, and everyone around me.

Yet here I was,wounded and fractured from the choices I had made so long ago. I had to watch the man I loved for so long pull away while he tried to accept this other side of me, the one he had no idea existed. The crippling, angry atmosphere from the last few weeks had been replaced with a suffocating hurt, confused tension that neither of us knew how to breech. It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. There were evenings where we just watched each other, wishing that one of us could just find the magical words to break the invisible glass barrier between us into small, fragile pieces that could be swept away and forgotten about. I wanted to find the words that would lift the burden of guilt from his shoulders. I tried so hard to open my mouth and spill my guts for him to see and make sense of, but it never happened, which I put down to my exhaustion from work. I could only wait for him to make the first move, like he always did. Frank always knew the answer to everything, no matter what the question was, but now he was looking to me to make this situation better, to tell him what to do to solve it, and get things back to the way they used to be. He was as fucking clueless as I was, and that in itself was enough to terrify me. Frank was the stronger one, the one who could always fix everything. He liked fixing things; it was part of his nature to solve every little problem that came his way. If he couldn’t pick the pieces up, if he couldn’t find the will to fix this, I wasn’t sure how we could make it through if we couldn’t even talk about it. Nina was right about us needing to communicate; I finally saw it, though now it may have been too late.

It was Saturday, late afternoon, to be exact, and we were sitting next to each other on the couch, without touching, watching some cooking show without any real interest. I was too tired to try talking again, and I honestly didn’t think I could have any kind of meaningful conversation right then. The week had sucked every bit of energy from me. The two cups of coffee I’d already consumed weren’t working the way they should have. I wasn’t a ball of nervous energy rearing to do something that involved being out and about. Getting dressed had been a hard enough task, never mind thinking about going outside. Frank either felt the same, or just had nothing else to do. The temperature had dropped dramatically outside, and it was slowly infiltrating the apartment. I didn’t even realise I’d been shivering until I felt Frank’s arms around me, pulling me against his chest. I placed my head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat and body heat. It felt like forever since we had mindlessly cuddled without me crying. I wrapped my arms around his torso, almost lying on top of him in my need to get closer to him. I could smell his aftershave, the one that always got me in the mood to rip his shirt off. It had been so long since we had any kind of sexual intimacy, and now that I could smell him, and feel him so close to me, I realised that I still wanted him so badly, even in the midst of the uncomfortable atmosphere and uncertain future. It wasn’t just a sexual want, or desperation. I still felt that connection to him, I was sure of it. Surely that meant something. Without warning, I sat up and kissed him. It wasn’t lustful or rough, like our normal kisses. When his hand moved, my heart dropped in fear that he was going to push me away. Instead his hand cupped my cheek, while his other arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer. I wrapped my arms around his neck, putting everything into that one kiss that words couldn’t do justice for. It was I was sorry. That I need you, and I still want you. Eventually, the pent up frustration started to seep into the kiss unintentionally. My hands traced lightly down his toned chest, feeling the hard muscle over his shirt. I grabbed the hem of it, eager to get rid of it when Frank stopped me.

“Grace, wait a minute.”

Frank was breathless, but it didn’t disguise the urgency and fear in his words. His eyes were wide, and I saw no lust or want in them. He was afraid of me now, and its effect on me was instantaneous. I felt sick, unwanted, but, above all else, I felt the one thing I didn’t want to feel. I felt like a victim. That was how he saw me now, and it was so clear now. The girl that used to keep him in bed all day was gone in his eyes. I was someone who was fragile now, someone beyond repair. I was no longer _me_ anymore. I’d be lying if I said I remembered getting off the couch, my body shaking and fighting the urge to break down. I wasn’t going to prove him right by getting upset and crying. My instinct to run kicked in full swing and all my senses seemed to dull. I could hear his voice but his words didn’t reach my ears. It was nothing but a background noise, and I ignored his presence when he followed me to the door, asking me where I was going. I didn’t respond to him, too hurt and angry to make any sort of meaningful reply. I made sure I slammed the door in my wake, praying that it somehow hurt him as much as he had hurt me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited fort he next chapter guys, and I think you guys will like it.
> 
> Feedback is awesome!
> 
> Lyra


	16. Chapter 16

My feet must have had a mind of their own, because my brain certainly wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I wasn’t in my right frame of mind, and I knew it, even then. It was one thing when you anticipated the worst, waiting for it to unfold and unravel in front of your eyes, with fearful adrenaline that makes your heart race and skin moist with cold sweat. A lot of people believed waiting for the inevitable is the torturous part, when you’re anxiously standing on the precipice of disaster or danger, and in no position to do anything about it. Those people were idiots. Right then, I would have done anything to go back to half an hour previously, when I was still uncertain about the future of my relationship, and how my revelation had changed Frank, and his perception of me. Now I knew, and it was a crushing weight on my chest that wouldn’t ease no matter how long or far I walked. It was difficult to focus on anything, when everything that mattered didn’t seem important anymore. If Frank didn’t want me anymore, I _had_ nothing. There was no point in surviving Nick’s abuse if I had nothing to hold onto. If Frank couldn’t look past it, nobody else would.

_That’s a lie._

Gerard had. Gerard knew the dirty secret before Frank had, and yet he still wanted me, in spite of it. Why couldn’t Frank do that? Why couldn’t Frank realise that the abuse didn’t make me a different person from who I was before he knew the truth. He had verified my fears, when he should have smashed them to pieces, and reassured me that I had done the right thing by telling him. I may as well have told him about Gerard; at least then the relationship would have ended because of something I had control over. Any confidence I had in myself had vanished the second Frank pushed me away, and I doubted it could ever return. How could I ever live a normal life, with complete honesty, when honesty took away any normalcy I may achieve?

 

I wandered around aimlessly, needing to keep moving, even if my legs were aching and my feet were throbbing from the constant motion. It wasn’t until I saw the sun was beginning to set that I looked at my surroundings. The area was familiar, but I couldn’t place it at first. The buildings looked old and barely cared for, one or two were dilapidated and in need of knocking down. It was with a sharp intake of breath that it clicked in my mind that this was where Gerard had taken me. I recognised the building he lived in now that I was aware of where I was. I started to wonder if there was a reason that I found myself here. Was it fate gently nudging me, or nothing more than my subconscious want making itself known? I bit my lip, debating the options in front of me. I could have turned around and acted like I was never here. Gerard would have been none the wiser, and it would have avoided any uncomfortable interactions. Two, I could have gone to see if he was home, and maybe salvaged some part of our friendship, I so desperately needed right then. I was being selfish, and needy, and all the things I hated about myself, but I just needed some kind of comfort and reassurance that everything would be okay. That was what drove me to walk up to Gerard’s building and press his buzzer. I waited, my body tense and filled with knots that grew tighter every second. I stood there for a minute, then two minutes, before I accepted that he wasn’t home. Maybe it was fate’s way of telling me to leave him alone, to forget about him, and let him move on. I took a step back when the voice I recognised so well made me jump.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Grace. Can I come up?”

Again, I waited. Only for a few seconds, but it felt so much longer than that when I was standing there, feeling like an idiot and questioning whether I was doing the right thing. I was certain that he was going to tell me to go away, when the door clicked, allowing me to enter the building. I was too hurt and angry with Frank to really think about what I was doing. Gerard decided to let me up, so I assumed he was willing to talk. Of course, he could have been inviting me up to vent his anger and frustration again. Even though my heart was palpitating in my chest, and my breathing was a little erratic, I climbed the stairs and found his apartment. I hesitated a second before knocking on the door, my hand shaking like a leaf. This was probably a bad idea. Scratch that, it _was_ a bad idea. This was such a stupid move on my part, but I was there, so there was no point in running away.

The door opened, revealing a paint-covered Gerard. He looked a lot better than the last day I’d seen him. His eyes were still a little tired looking, but the haunted look that had plagued my memories was gone. It eased my guilt somewhat, but the blank expression didn’t take away the doubt that I felt that this was a smart move. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking during those first few seconds I stood there, but then I saw concern flicker fleetingly across his face. He hid it quickly, though; if I hadn’t been watching so intently, I would have missed it.

“Why are you here?” his voice wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t too far off from it either.

“I dunno…”I answered truthfully, because I honestly didn’t know why I was there. I had no idea what to expect, but comfort was certainly not it. Maybe I just wanted to know that he didn’t hate me. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“You may as well come in,” he stated, stepping aside and letting me step over the threshold. I walked down the hallway and entered the sitting room. The smell of paint hit me immediately; it was overwhelming and a little dizzying. There was a canvas sitting on an easel, still wet from Gerard’s efforts. I didn’t get the chance to inspect it properly before Gerard came into the room and distracted me.

“Would you like some coffee?” He asked, his voice a little tight.

“Sure,” I respond.

“Take a seat. I just made some.”

I did as he asked, and took a seat on his couch. I couldn’t help but remember what happened the last time I’d been there, on his couch. I remembered how his body had felt on top of mine, how his lips had felt when they caressed my neck. I remembered his fingers grazing my skin as they wondered under my top and made their way down my torso. I shouldn’t have been thinking about that right then. It wasn’t going to help anything, and the last thing that I needed was to let my sexual frustration make itself known. I started biting my lip again, wishing the thoughts would just melt away.  Then again, maybe it was better to think about that, than about Frank, right at that moment. It was better than the agonising pain that had settled in my chest.

“Here you go.” Gerard handed me the cup and sat next to me. I noticed how he wasn’t sitting as close as before. He was keeping his distance, which I was thankful for. I didn’t need physical comfort or closeness right then, at least not from Gerard. It would have just made it harder to push the memories away. I took a sip from the cup, hoping the scalding liquid would bring me back to the here and now.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened?”

Gerard’s dulcet tone broke the silence. I wondered whether I should tell him what had happened with Frank, or if it would have been selfish of me to unload it on him. Part of me argued that being there at all was selfish, so what was one more selfish act? I quickly ruled it out, though. It was a step too far, and it was the last thing I should have been talking about. I realised then that I just wanted a distraction. Distraction was what I needed. I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to spill my guts again.It never seemed to do any good, anyway. It only led to consequences that I didn’t like, and I was so sick of consequences, bad decision making, telling the truth and hiding. I didn’t want to do any of that right then.

“Nothing,” I wished my voice had been more convincing.

“If you don’t want to talk, fine, just don’t lie.”

“Fine, I don’t want to talk about it. I know it’s really selfish of me to ask this of you, but I just need a distraction, and I think you’re the only person who can understand that. Right now, you’re the only person I want to be around.”

“You’re right, it is selfish.”

I thought he was going to ask me to leave, but he didn’t. He stood up and walked over to his DVD cabinet, and pulled out a random DVD. He switched on his TV and DVD player, and put the disc in. I couldn’t stop the smile the formed on my lips when I saw what it was that he had chosen.

“Fucking. A,” I grinned.

“Nothing beats Ghostbusters two.” Gerard returned the smile, sitting down on the couch again. He leaned back, remote in his hand, and set the movie up. I copied him, and leaned back, letting my body relax, and losing myself in the movie. I wasn’t as easy as I had hoped; I found myself wondering where Frank was, if he was looking for me. I thought about how close Gerard was, and how good he smelled, and how good a person he was for letting me in, when he had every right to turn me away. I didn’t deserve to have someone like him in my life. He was far too good a person, and he was an idiot if he didn’t see that he could do so much better than me. I didn’t deserve Frank either. I was as worthless and weak as I was as a teenager. I didn’t realise that I’d been crying until the movie was suddenly paused, and a pair of warm arms wrapped around me out of nowhere, pulling against a warm body. I couldn’t hold it in then. I broke down, yet again. It felt like it was all I did those days.

“Grace, whatever it is, it’s gonna be okay.” Gerard tried to comfort me, but it was a useless effort. Anything along the lines of ‘It’s okay/it will be alright/things will work themselves out’ was all one big lie.

“No, it won’t. Not this time,” I sobbed.

“I’m sure that’s not true-”

“No, it is. I told Frank about Nick, and now he doesn’t love me anymore. Not like he used to. He knows the truth, and now I’m just a victim to him. He’s staying because he's afraid of what I might do when he leaves.”

Gerard tightened his hold on me, so tight it was almost painful. He didn’t rush to tell me that I was wrong, or that it was going to be okay.  He empathised, and that was all I needed.

“I’m sorry, Grace.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I lied to him all these years, because I knew I would lose him once he found out. I shouldn’t have expected anything different. It’s my fault for having the little bit of hope that things wouldn’t change.”

“It’s not your fault, Grace, and if he really loves you, he shouldn’t make you feel like you did something wrong. Okay, maybe you should have told him, but any other issues he has are _his_ problem, not yours. If he can’t deal with it, it’s his loss for not realising what an amazing person you are to get through all that, and still be here to tell the tale.”

“It doesn’t feel like it. Sometimes I fucking wonder if it’s worth it anymore. It’d be so much easier to give up, and just fade into nothingness. I’ll never be able to hold onto anything. I’ve got nothing left to stay here for. I’m too broken to be put back together.”

Suddenly Gerard’s arms were gone, and his hands cupped my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. There were so many emotions in the look he gave me- anger; fear; desperation; and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Don’t you _ever_ say that again, you hear me? If Frank is stupid enough to let you go, then he doesn’t deserve your tears. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and you’ve gone through too much to give up now. You’re not broken; you’re not a thing to be fixed. You just need to realise that, and realise that there’s more to life than what you’ve set out for yourself. You’ve put yourself into this little box, where you could hide who you are from the world, so that you didn’t have to face all the things in the past that tried to pull you down. But you don’t need to hide, Grace. I see who you are, and the potential you have. You just have to start believing in yourself, and believe that you’re worth something.”

I couldn’t form any words in response. I swallowed, overwhelmed by the conviction in his words. There was a time when Frank used to make me feel like I was worth something, like Gerard was making me feel right then. His eyes were gazing into mine, holding the stare, and refusing to let me look away. I let out a shaky breath, wanting to believe everything that he had said. I wanted to believe that I was still worth something, that my existence wasn’t a waste. Maybe that was why I didn’t stop him when he suddenly pressed his lips gently against mine. It was a cautious kiss, one that was ready for rejection, but hoping for more. I didn’t give it a second thought when I responded, eagerly returning the kiss, and clutching the front of his raggy top with my fists. The kiss stayed gentle like that for a while, soft and undemanding, but inevitably it turned more passionate, with clashing teeth, a lot of tongue and breathlessness from its intensity. Gerard’s hands moved from my face to my waist, and suddenly I was on his lap, straddling him. The kiss broke, due to the need of oxygen, and the only sound that filled the apartment was our heavy breathing.

“Is this what you want?” Gerard asked, lust clouding his eyes, and in that moment I didn’t want to say no. I couldn’t say no.

“It’s what I want.”

The words broke the dam of his self-restraint. My top was all but ripped off me, followed swiftly by my bra. His mouth was on my breast, drawing a wanton moan from my mouth. My hips were grinding down on his lap, and I could feel his hard on straining against his jeans. My hands were gripping his shoulders; nails digging into his skin so hard that I was certain I left marks on him. He didn’t seem to mind, though.In fact, it seemed to drive him on. Suddenly I wanted more skin on skin contact, so I gripped the hem of his top and pulled it off him, throwing it on the floor with my discarded clothes.

“Bedroom,” Gerard groaned, his hands finally letting go of my hips and pushing me to stand up. His lips were on mine again, though, and his hands gripped the back of my thighs and lifted me up, so I could wrap my legs around his waist. He carried me to the bedroom, although I had no idea how he managed it when his lips never left mine until he placed me on his bed. He didn’t waste any more time after that. His fingers were pulling down the zipper on my jeans, and they were gone in seconds, along with my panties. I was panting by this stage, and I was more than ready for him. That didn’t stop him from kissing his way from my ankles to the apex of my thighs. I was whining and pulling on his hair, afraid that I would combust if he didn’t stop teasing me.

“Gerard, please,” I pleaded, just before I felt his tongue on me, running from my slit to my clit. I almost lost it then, my entire body was on fire, and I couldn’t take anymore.

“Gerard,” I whined, and he seemed to understand what I was trying to say. I watched him get rid of his jeans and boxer shorts, before he rummaged through the drawer of his bedside locker for a condom. His hands were shaking as he rolled it on, so much so that I was surprised he actually managed it on the first go. Then he climbed on top of me, his breathing just as erratic as mine. His eyes searched mine, silently asking if I was sure that I wanted this. I smiled, certain that I’d never want anything more than I wanted him right then. He pushed into me with one, slow thrust, and I didn’t even try to hold in the moan that came out of me. His lips found mine again, giving me a quick kiss, before he started a steady rhythm. All my worries, all my fears and anxiety melted away; the only thing I could process was how he felt inside me, how his scent invaded every part of me, and how warm and soft his bare skin was against mine. His head was buried against my neck, and every one in a while he would kiss and nip at the skin, which made the pit of my stomach clench even tighter. It wasn’t too long before I released around him, screaming his name breathlessly. He didn’t last much longer after I came, groaning my name and collapsing on top of me. I barely remembered him rolling off me, his chest heaving, as he tried to catch his breath. All I remembered was him wrapping his arms around me, my back to his chest, as my eyes closed, and I fell into a peaceful sleep for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...who saw that coming? *giggles*
> 
> Are we all happy with the sexy times? 
> 
> Lyra


	17. Chapter 17

I woke up suddenly, my eyes snapping open before I was fully aware of the fact I was awake. My eyes landed on a digital clock, with its bright red digits reading ‘11:00 PM’. After a short delay I soon remembered where I was, and who I was with. Gerard’s arm was hugging my waist, holding me close to him. His chest was snug against my back, giving me no space at all. It took a few minutes of me laying there, my mind strangely blank, and my body relaxed, before the full weight of what had happened hit me.

I’d cheated on Frank, the guy I had loved since I was nineteen, with a guy I’ve known for a few weeks. I wasn’t even sure how far my feelings for Gerard went.It was something I’d refused to let myself dwell on. Now, I had no choice but to confront them. I could feel his even, soft breath tickling my shoulder blade, his nose leaning in between my neck and shoulders. His body was so warm against mine, his arms made me feel safe, and the scent of him made my blood race. My attraction to him was undeniable, and he was the most genuine person I’d ever met. He had reached out to me; he _wanted_ me, even after I had rejected him. He wasn’t easily scared away, he wasn’t bogged down in the details of my past. He accepted it; embraced it, even. Even more than that, he _understood_ it, in a way that few others in this world could. We were both the product of someone else’s hateful violence and depraved sexual desires. We both bore the scars, even if only one of us bore them physically. It was painful to think that our connection stemmed from something so tragic and downright miserable, but I supposed tragedy was a stronger bond than anything else in this world. We both knew what it was like to hide a part of ourselves from the outside world, to create a mask that was glued on so strong that it never slipped, never faltered and never let the outside world know what was truly going on in your mind. At least, that was true for me until recently. I felt the mask slipping away, opening my internal struggles for everyone, namely Frank, to see. There was no reason to hide with Gerard, and that was a downright scary thing, when secrets and ignoring my past were ingrained in my psyche.It was something I had grown accustomed too, and it wasn’t the most pleasant experience to have someone rip that ability from under your feet, without warning or so much as an apology.

Did I make Gerard feel like that? Had I been able to destroy the mask he’d worn for most of his life, the one that had covered his hate, anger and self loathing for so long? Was I worthy of that claim, even? It didn’t feel like it, not when I was still so uncertain about the road that was ahead of me now. The consequences of what I’d done would be far reaching, not just affecting me, but Gerard and Frank. It was a situation where at least one of us would be hurt, broken and defeated. Yes, I wanted Gerard, but was running straight into his arms the right move for either of us? I couldn’t believe that it was. I needed time to think things through, to properly inspect my feelings before I dragged him down even further. Then again, was there much more I could do to hurt him? A cold shiver ran down my spine, suddenly fearful of what would happen when I left. Not just in respect to me and Frank, but Gerard as well. I couldn’t give him anything more than a vague promise of sorting my shit out, and how would he take that? The last time I had walked away from him, the gaunt figure he’d portrayed in the following days had torn me to shreds inside whenever I let my mind linger on it. This time would be no better. He claimed he loved me, and his words all screamed need and desperation. Was that something I could handle? My own baggage was so fucking heavy, and I had no idea if I could take on Gerard’s too. He seemed to be together on the outside, and he was certainly more adjusted than I was, but he was still a recovering alcoholic. Was he strong enough to handle my admittedly brittle mental disposition at present?  If I were more stable in my own recovery, if I were further along the road and more assured that I would make it through the next while in one piece,and find the real me again, it wouldn’t even be an issue. His issues weren’t insurmountable, and maybe mine weren’t either, but could two people trying to put the broken pieces of themselves back together, two people battling their demons while trying to function in the world with all the demands it threw their way, could they really try to build a relationship on that kind of foundation? We both deserved more than going into a relationship with no forethought, and no positive assurance that we could ever be stable. When the fact that I was still in a relationship with someone else, someone I dearly loved even if he didn’t love me anymore, was taken into account, I couldn’t see any way a relationship between us would lead to anything but disaster, at least not until I let myself grieve for the love I was about to lose.

I blinked, my unfocused eyes starting to sting from their aimless staring into space, registering the time was five past eleven. I needed to get out of here and face Frank, and the inevitable shit storm that was going to happen. I knew I wasn’t going to tell him about this; there would be no need to. This wasn’t the reason my relationship was finally taking its last breath, and throwing it into Frank’s face would be nothing more than spiteful, and a distraction from the real issues at hand. My only real struggle was whether I should sneak out, without waking Gerard, taking the coward’s way out and avoiding the uncomfortable conversation that would follow, or if I should just face the music? I squirmed a little, trying to ease the uncomfortable nervous butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I held my breath, deciding to risk moving his arm off me without waking him. The minute my hand touched his arm, his arm tightened around me. I was suddenly aware that his breathing wasn’t as even as before.

“Trying to escape without saying goodbye?” his voice wasn’t bitter, but if he wasn’t so sleepy and I-just-got-fucked sounding, I’m sure he would have.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” I lied instinctively.

“Liar,” he muttered against my shoulder blade, not loosening his hold on me one bit. He planted a gentle kiss on the skin, and it made my stomach flip, something that caught me completely by surprise, and I couldn’t contain the little gasp that escaped me. I felt him smile against my skin.

“I have to go,” I whispered, as though the low volume would lessen the impact of the words.

“Don’t. Stay with me.”

The softly spoken plea was sincere, and right then I wanted nothing more than to just stay there in his arms and pretend that everything was okay. That I hadn’t just cheated on Frank, and that I was okay, and that there wasn’t a world of pain waiting for me back in my apartment when I went back. I didn’t want to face what was about to happen. If I could have stayed right there, if the world could’ve stop moving and let me enjoy the safety and affection I felt in that moment, I would have. But every moment, good and bad, has to end, and that moment was no exception to that rule.

“I have to go home sometime, and sooner will be better than later. You know that.”

He sighed dejectedly, knowing I was right.

“Are we going to talk about this first?” he asked hopefully, looking for any delay he could find.

It was my turn to sigh. I rolled onto my back, looking up at Gerard’s face. I let myself take in his handsome features for a split second; like his stunningly long, dark eyelashes, his prominent cheekbones, and his large hazel eyes, which were arrested on my face with intensity that was almost breathtaking.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admitted, aware that now wasn’t the time for lies and vagueness.

“Are you going to pretend like this didn’t happen?”

“No,” the answer flowed from my lips before I fully comprehended what was going on in my head. He relaxed when he heard my answer, though, a little satisfied by my honesty, at least. Maybe he felt like it was making headway, and I supposed it was.

“So, what now then? Am I going to be your little bit on the side while you make up your mind? ”

He looked regretful when the words were spoken, afraid of hearing an answer to the question that he didn’t want to know.

“Gerard,” Suddenly his lips were on mine, preventing me from replying. It was a short kiss, though, one that left me a little breathless in its wake, but I continued on anyway.“I don’t know what’s going to happen. All I know is that I have to face Frank before I can give you any kind of answer. This wasn’t part of my plan, Gerard. None of this was.”

“I understand. Just…just promise this isn’t the last time I’m going to see you, that you’re not going to walk out of here without a backward glance, and pretend this didn’t mean anything?”

I swallowed, his words tugging at the part of my heart that didn’t want to leave him. I had never been in this situation before, where my heart was in conflict with itself. How could I be in another person’s bed, wishing I could stay in their arms, while it was also still aching for the man I’d left back in the apartment we shared. I was never a romantic, in any great sense, but the thought that I could want two people, that my heart could ache for two people, was a concept that seemed wrong. I knew this wasn’t a meaningless quick fuck; I wouldn’t have given into such a base need, unless there was something _more_ to it. I wasn’t going to deny it to myself anymore, or to Gerard, but that didn’t fill my heart with joy, or ease the guilt I felt. In fact, it intensified it. I could justify it to myself as much as I wanted to; I could tell myself this was Frank’s fault for not being able to deal with my issues, that if he hadn’t forced me into that tiny, dull waiting room, none of this wouldn’t have happened., but the bottom line was that it _didn’t_ matter. Everything that had happened, had happened, and it was only now that I was beginning to fully understand that I couldn’t just hide from the mess I’d created anymore. My mind felt clearer than it had in a long time; I could think more rationally somehow, as though by giving into a desire I wasn’t fully aware I had, it made things a little more obvious.

I shouldn’t have run away from Frank the way I did. I could see that now, as much as I didn’t _truly_ regret what I’d done with Gerard. I should have stayed with Frank, and yelled things out with him if it was necessary. I shouldn’t have let my thoughts and emotions stew and fester, or allowed Frank so much time to over-think what I’d told him. That was my fault, and mine alone. I could see it clearly. I spent so much time running, from myself and my past, that it was an automatic habit. It was a cycle I had to break, beginning now. That included running from Gerard as well. Right now I had to deal with the broken fragments of my life with Frank, but I would have to come back, and face whatever the consequence of this would be. I couldn’t stop the wry smile that tugged the corners of my lips when Nina crossed my mind. Would she be happy with my epiphany? I wondered how she would take the recent events, would she keep her professional mask on, or could I shock her into revealing her real thoughts? I didn’t realise I’d let a tiny giggle out, until I saw Gerard looking at me with a look that told me he was concerned for my sanity.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking about Nina…Monday’s session is going to be interesting,” I chuckled, unable to stop the little giggle.

“Grace,” he was using his soft voice again, and it brought my attention back to the here and now, and what he had asked me.

“I can’t really promise you much, or anything, really, except that I’m not going to run from this. Just- just give me a bit of time to deal with Frank first.”

There was a flash of hurt when he heard Frank’s name, which was quickly covered up by the resigned expression on his face.

“Okay. You need time. That’s okay. As long as I know this isn’t going to be brushed under the carpet, that’s okay.”

I so badly wanted to comfort him right then, to take away the sadness that glazed his eyes. I couldn’t, though, not then. Right then, I had to get up and go back home. I wondered if it would be home for much longer. I sat up reluctantly, searching the room for my clothes. I could feel Gerard’s eyes on me while I retrieved my jeans and underwear, and I blushed when I remembered how my top and bra had been discarded in the sitting room. I scurried into the sitting room, quickly finding them on the floor. My arms were shaking so hard, it was impossible to clip the strap on my bra. I struggled, for the first time since I was a twelve year old with my first bra. I didn’t hear Gerard come in, dressed in a baggy top and boxers, but I did feel his hands brush my hands away and do the job in two seconds.

“Thanks,” I muttered, slightly embarrassed.

Suddenly his arms were on my waist and lips were grazing my shoulders softly, which was more comforting in nature than sexual. Accepting that I had to go home, and wanting to go, were two different things, and the closer I got to it, the more I shook with fear.

“Call me if you need me, okay?”

I nodded, before I stepped away from his touch and finished dressing. I gave him a small smile, unsure of what to say. He followed me to the door, biting his lip, as though he was struggling with his thoughts. He didn’t say anything, though, instead he surprised me by wrapping his arms around me and taking my lips hungrily. I didn’t have it in me to stop it, and I don’t think I wanted to stop it either. When we eventually broke apart, he pressed his forehead against mine¸ his hands clutching my hair, and his breath tickling my face. We stayed like that for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to break the moment. I bit the bullet and gently tugged his hands free from my hair, and with one last quick meeting of our lips, I walked out the door, trepidation seeping into every pore when I hailed a cab to take me home, which was frightfully quick. My heart was starting to pound harshly in my chest, so hard it was painful, and I was surprised it wasn’t bursting through my chest cavity.

My key slipped into the lock smoothly, unhindered by my nonstop shaking. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my uneven breathing, and walked inside, ready to face Frank. It was an undeniable anticlimax when I realised Frank was nowhere to be seen. The television was still on, as were all the lights, but no Frank. It stung me a little; while I hadn’t walked out to make him worry, the fact that he wasn’t concerned enough to stay and see if I would come home seemed to say it all. I could still feel Gerard on me, I could smell his aftershave lingering on my skin, so I decided to go into the shower and wash, hoping it would wash away the hurt and guilt that wanted to swallow me whole. I took my time under the piping hot water, letting it sting and burn the skin until it was red. The pain on the outside was distracting the pain on the inside. I was trapped in my own thoughts of despair, trying to figure out what I would say when Frank eventually came home. He was probably in a bar somewhere, drowning his sorrows, or perhaps celebrating the fact that he was finally about to get rid of me. I was so captivated by the different scenarios in my mind, from the blazing row where things were said in the heat of the moment and possessions got destroyed, to the quietly packing my bags and leaving while Frank watched, unwilling to stop me from walking away, that I didn’t hear the front door open, followed by Frank’s panicked shout. He must have heard the shower running, because all of a sudden I could feel a draft invade the room, making me shiver.

“Grace?”

I jumped, and almost slipped, from the fright. I turned the shower off immediately, and pulled the shower curtain back a little to reveal a dishevelled looking Frank at the door, who was pale with panic. I quickly grabbed the towel and wrapped it around myself before stepping out of the tub.

“Where were you? I was looking everywhere for you, I was so fucking worried.”

He didn’t wait for me to give him an answer before he pulled me into his arms, squeezing me tightly. I held in the tears that threatened to fall, and let his arms embrace me so tightly it was hard to breathe.

“Where were you?” he asked, his voice tight with suppressed emotion.

“I went to a friend.” I didn’t elaborate any further.

“I was so fucking worried,” he repeated, more to himself than anything else. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his breathing was still a little uneven.

“Sorry,” I whispered, meaning it more than he could ever know.

“Why did you run away like that?”

He sounded so confused, so hurt, which only made my blood simmer dully with anger.

“You rejected me. You looked at me like- like I was a fucking broken toy. You don’t want me anymore, and it’s okay. I get why you don’t, it’s not your fault, really, but- ”

“Of course I fucking want you. I wasn’t rejecting you! I just wanted us to talk, instead of papering over the cracks. I didn’t want to fuck and then try to pretend nothing had happened.”

I didn’t know if I believed him, and I was too tired to have the talk I knew we needed to have. Too much had happened, and I couldn’t handle anymore right then. For one night, I wanted to feel his arms wrapped around me the way they used to.

“Can we just go to bed? I’m so fucking tired, Frank. I just want to sleep. Can we just sleep like we used to? We can talk tomorrow, but can we just go to bed now?”

“Okay. But we’re talking this out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around him and closing my eyes, wishing that 'tomorrow' would never come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Thanks to all the readers/subscribers and commenters. You guys rock. 
> 
> Lyra


	18. Chapter 18

“So, Grace, how have you been?”

Nina had that fake smile plastered on her face again. Then again, maybe it was genuine. It didn’t really matter, I suppose, either way. She leaned forward, grabbing her bottle of water on the table that filled the space between us. I waited, watching her unscrew the lid and bring the bottle to her lips. I don’t know what it was about Nina, but something about her just brought out the bitch in me.

“I fucked Gerard.”

It took every ounce of self-restraint I had to not laugh when she choked on the water, her eyes going wide as she coughed and spluttered.

I never said I was a nice person.

She recovered quickly, coughing up the last of the water before she gave herself a few seconds to get her breathing back in order.

“How did that come about?” she asked, faking neutrality to disguise her plain curiosity. Eyes don’t lie, though, and I could see she was more alert, more focused on me.

“Short version is that Frank rejected me, I walked out and went over to Gerard’s. One thing led to another.” I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide how shit I felt over my actions.

“Okay, let’s go back a step. What happened between you and Frank?”

I paused, biting my lip. I really didn’t want to go over what happened. It filled me with humiliation when I thought about it; I was only human, and the fact that Frank had rejected me, even if it was for a good reason, still hurt. Plus, the fact that I had clearly overreacted, and made a mistake as a result, was still a sore point. I wasn’t proud that I was now officially a cheater. Frank definitely deserved better than that, especially when I wasn’t even certain if I regretted it.

“We were…making out, and about to have sex, when he just stopped. He looked so scared, like he wanted to run away, and it just got to me-”

“Why?” Nina butted in.

“Because it felt like he confirmed my reasons for not telling him. I mean, up until recently we always had a really good sex life. We connected sexually, we have similar drives, similar desires. I always felt like he wanted me, in every way possible. I spent my teenage years beyond terrified of the idea of being sexually desired, I was so certain that every guy would be like Nick. That they would just take, that they would act like I was a doll that just had to take it. Then Frank came along, a guy who cared about me, and it didn’t seem so frightening that he wanted me in that way when I realised he wouldn’t hurt me. He taught me that it could be good, that it could be special and intimate, and not just a mindless act of aggression or violence. I didn’t feel humiliated, or degraded. I actually enjoyed it, and more importantly, he _wanted_ me to enjoy it for _me,_ and not as a way for him to prove I was a whore. It felt like it cancelled out everything Nick did and said. If Frank didn’t see me like that, then Nick was wrong.”

“So, when he stopped, you felt as though he didn’t see you for _you_ anymore?” Nina asked, eyebrow raised.

“I guess so. Nick always said nobody would want me, that I was nothing but a cheap, broken whore. When Frank pushed me away, and he looked at me like he’s seen a ghost or something, it just reinforced everything Nick had told me. That was why I kept it from him, because I was afraid that even if Frank did believe me that he would only see a victim, something that was broken and tainted. I never wanted to see him look at me like that, I never wanted him to treat me like it defined me, or my sexuality. Maybe at one stage it did, but Frank changed that. Frank made me see it wasn't dirty, that it wasn’t wrong.”

“What did Frank say when he put a stop to things?What explanation did he give you?”

“He didn’t give me one. I had to get out of the apartment. I just couldn’t stay there and listen to whatever lie he was going to tell me, so I walked out. I needed to clear my head, pull myself together, because I was so sure things were over.”

“So, you didn’t let him explain himself?”

“No,” I whispered, blushing under Nina’s judging eyes.

She sighed, but held her tongue.

“So, you went to Gerard?”

“I didn’t plan to. I was walking, and I just found myself there. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure he’d talk to me. He was so angry with me last time we spoke, but he let me up. I didn’t plan on sleeping with him,” I was defending myself, not fooled by Nina’s unaffected exterior; “I swear I didn’t. I just wanted to distract myself, you know? I wanted to not think about it for a while, you know? But I couldn’t stop thinking aboutit. Then he started hugging me, and I told him what had happened, and then he started kissing me, and I should have stopped, but it just felt nice to be wanted. It felt like forever since I last felt that.”

“Do you think the reason you went to Gerard’s apartment was in some way motivated by the desire for revenge, maybe? Frank didn’t want you, so you went to someone who you knew had feelings for you? A person you knew wouldn’t reject you if given the chance?”

“I don’t know. I want to say no, but I suppose maybe on some level it’s true, even if I wasn’t thinking of it at the time. Or maybe I’m just a whore.”

“You’re not a whore, Grace,” Nina spoke sympathetically, her eyes softening, “You were hurt by a perceived rejection by a person you love. Hurt makes us do things we wouldn’t normally do. You felt invalidated as a sexual being and your relationship is in a less than stable place right now, so you sought the validation from another source, a source you knew and trusted. Did you tell Frank?”

“No,” I admitted, flushing an even deeper shade of pink.

“Where do things stand between the two of you?”

I sighed, running a hand over my face in frustration.

“They’re…okay, I think.  We had sex yesterday for the first time since I tried to kill myself. We had a long talk yesterday. He said he loves me, that what I told him didn’t change his feelings for me. He said he was sorry for not handling things as well as he should have, but that he wants us to work through it. He told me the reason he stopped me was because he wanted us to talk. He asked me all these questions, about Nick and what happened, and why I didn’t tell him.  He told me he felt like I was pushing him away, because I won’t tell him what’s going on in here, or that I’m hiding something from him.”

“Do you think he’s right? Are you pushing him away?”

“If I wanted to push him away, I would have told him about Gerard,” I said dryly.

“So, you have the intention of telling him about Gerard?” Nina asked.

“What would be the point? It would only hurt him.”

“Do you plan on seeing Gerard again?”

“I promised him I would.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

“I don’t know what the fuck I should do anymore. I know I have feelings for him, and there’s definitely something there. I just… I know I love Frank, and I still want him. I don’t want to lose him, but Gerard just…gets me. I don’t feel like I have to pretend to be okay around him. I don’t have to pretend to be anything but me. But even if I didn’t still love Frank, I don’t know if a relationship would work. He’s got his own baggage, and I’m barely keeping myself together right now. I mean, there’s no way things would work when the two of us are still trying to figure our own shit out. I mean…could it? Can two people, one a recovering alcoholic and the other who’s just a plain mess...Can that work?”

“It would be difficult, probably. It would depend on what stages the two people are at, what coping strategies both people have, and if they’re aware of what their issues are. There’s no clear cut answer, but it’s certainly not impossible. People can find comfort and reassurance in being with someone who can understand and relate to their issues. There are no hard and fast rules when it comes to compatibility and longevity in a relationship.  At the end of the day, it’s all about how much you _want_ a relationship to work. If people put in enough time and effort, and communicate, anything is possible.”

I leaned back on my couch, more confused than ever. I loved Frank, and heaven knows I didn’t want to let go of him. He still loved me, even after I had kept such a big secret from him. I knew that would change if I told him about Gerard; I knew we wouldn’t survive that. Gerard had wormed is why into my mind, and my heart. I knew that if I allowed myself, I could fall for him, hard. There would be no secrets with him, no deception. Sure, there would be a lot of baggage, but maybe Nina was right- if we were willing to put in the effort, we could make it work. In a way, maybe Gerard would be a better choice, but Gerard and I didn’t have history. We didn’t have memories, or inside jokes. We didn’t have a life together, or plans for a future.

“Tell me what to do?” I pleaded.

Nina pursed her lips, and leaned back, relaxing her back against the couch.

“I can’t tell you what to do, Grace. That’s not my job. What I can do, is give you advice and clarity. You’re in a difficult place right now, emotionally. It’s hard to make a decision when you’ve no room to step back and take perspective on how you feel.  Do you think taking a break from Frank, and Gerard, would be an option?”

“A break?”

“Just to give yourself time to find some clarity. We tend to realise what we want when we’re not confronted with our options.”

“That’s kind of not an option. I live with Frank, it’s impossible to get space.”

“Alright. That’s a problem, certainly. You need to find a way to take a good, hard look at your feelings, whether it’s by writing them down, making a list, or whatever.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, wishing there was some magical answer to the predicament I’d gotten myself into.

I wasn’t surprised to find Gerard waiting for me when I left Nina’s office. His hands were in his pocket, his shoulders hunched in a way that made him look smaller than he was. He looked so nervous, so vulnerable, and I’d be an unfeeling creature if it didn’t tug at my heart. He didn’t notice me at first, he was so lost in his thoughts. His hazel eyes were unfocused, staring at the floor, but not really seeing. He heard my footsteps, though, and when he looked at me, I couldn’t help but blush when he smiled at me. It was a smile that made my stomach flip with excitement, a smile that reminded me of what had happened the last time I was in his company. There was a twinkle in his eyes, and for the first time since I met him, there was a little light of happiness behind them.

“Hey,” he greeted, almost shyly.

“Hi,” I smiled back, his smile seemingly contagious.

There was a little pause, before he broke the silence.

“Coffee?”

“Sure,” I agreed, still smiling as he lead the way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the readers/subscribers/commenters. You guys are awesome! 
> 
> Lyra


	19. Chapter 19

Our walk to the coffee shop was silent. I tried to get my head together, fighting to pull my thoughts into some kind of tangible train of thought that I could express. The main problem was that I had no idea what I wanted. I knew Nina was right about taking a break from both men, as much as I hated to admit that she was right about something. It wasn’t as simple as she made it out to be, though, for one very practical reason - I lived with Frank, and I had nowhere else to go. Sure,I had friends, but none which I would want to encroach with my problems. Even besides that very valid point, I had no idea of how I would explain it to Frank. Telling him about Gerard didn’t seem like much of an option, at least not if I wanted any chance of holding onto the relationship. It would be a point of no return for Frank, as well as a slap in the face. The truth was, I had no intention of ever telling him. Wrong as that may be, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him like that, if I could avoid it. Of course, it goes without saying that I shouldn’t have slept with Gerard in the first place, but I couldn’t change my past actions. Any explanation I gave Frank would have sounded contrived, and he would have taken it personally. He would have thought that it was his fault, that he had done something wrong, when the problem was me.

Then there was Gerard. He was quickly becoming a crutch, someone I could rely on, and I couldn’t quite decide if that was a good thing or not. I didn’t know if my feelings stemmed from gratitude, mixed in with lust and familiarity, or if there was something real there, something that could turn into more if I gave it the chance. Getting some distance from him might have helped to clear those feelings up, but yet the thought of shutting him out, of not having him there;of the possibility that I would be missing out on something that could have been amazing, stirred the easily recognisable feeling of panic in my chest.

We got our coffees and sat at a table, shrugging our coats off, while I anticipated what way our conversation would go. It was hard to tell what Gerard was thinking, what he felt about our current situation now that he had a bit of time to think about what we had done. I wondered if he still thought I was worth it, if he was still willing to put himself out there for someone who couldn’t seem to make up her mind. The guilt I felt over my behaviour hadn’t lessened. In fact, acknowledging that I had feelings for him only served to increase it. I cared about him, and he definitely deserved better. He deserved more than me, a person who was definitely taking more than I was giving in our relationship. I didn’t want to hurt him. Whenever I was with him, part of me wished I could let go of Frank, and just be with him. I wanted to be what he deserved, I wanted to make him happy, and be there for him as much as he was there for me.

“So…” Gerard started awkwardly, with an adorable shy smile on his face. God, I felt like an awkward teenager, and it appeared Gerard felt the same.

The situation just felt so absurd. I was a grown woman, who should be able to face a guy I had consensual sex with, but I certainly didn’t feel like it. The giggle couldn’t be helped, which must have been infectious,since Gerard joined in. I’m certain it was a strange sight for others to see, watching two people giggling like a couple of school girls. It died away, though, and a tightly coiled tension took its place.

“I was worried about you.”

I couldn’t meet his gaze, guilt again clawing at my insides. Maybe I should have texted him, let him know that I was okay, but how on earth would I have worded a text? What way could I have told him that I hadn’t told my boyfriend that I’d cheated on him, and I still hadn’t decided what I was going to do. It was an awkward conversation to have, and one that deserved to be done face to face.

“Sorry,” I muttered shamefully.

I could feel his gaze on me, probably trying to read my body language to gain some insight into my current thought process. I took a sip of my scalding coffee, wincing when the boiling liquid hit my tongue with a biting sting.

“You’re not leaving him.”

The lack of emotion behind the statement was more upsetting than if he’d roared at me in anger. I risked a glance at his face, and it certainly didn’t help me feel any better. To a passerby, it was deceptively unreadable. It appeared emotionless, or perhaps somewhat apathetic. I knew better, though. I could see the raw hurt behind his eyes, a lost glaze clouding his hazel eyes.

“I…I haven’t decided anything.”

“Did you have a nice little reunion when you went home? Leave out the part where you fucked someone else? Did you screw him too when you got home?”

“Stop it!” I snapped, hating just how nasty his tone was. It was vicious, and it didn’t suit him one bit. His eyes were wide with barely contained anger. I supposed I shouldn’t have expected anything else from him, but it still hurt to see him so hurt. I bit my lip, determined not to let his lashing out get to me. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

“Sorry,” he spoke, not sounding sorry at all.

“We talked things out yesterday. Things aren’t as…final, as I thought.”

“So, what happened between us is just null and voided, huh?”

“No,” the word came out of my mouth with a little cry.

“Then what, Grace?”

“Nina…Nina thinks I should take a break. From both of you. She thinks I need some space to sort my feelings out.”

Gerard slunk back in his chair, visibly relaxed a little.

“And what do you think?” he asked, bringing his cup to his lips.

“Taking a break isn’t…it’s not really an option. I don’t have anywhere else to go, and…”

“And what?”

“I still love him, Gerard. Even if we’re going through some stuff, that doesn’t mean my feelings for him have disappeared. We have history, and that means something. Then there’s you. There’s something between us, and I’m not going to lie and say that I don’t feel something for you, because I do. What happened between us, it meant something. I don’t know what this is, or what it could lead to. Maybe it could be amazing, but…it’s not as simple as leaving Frank and riding off into the sunset. Discarding the fact that I love Frank, there’s a real chance that we won’t work. Even you have to see that?”

“Anything can work, if you try hard enough,” he countered.

“Maybe, but you have to see that this isn’t easy for me.”

“Oh, and it’s just a bucketful of fun for me. You think I want to be in love with someone who’s in a relationship with someone else? You think it’s easy for me, seeing you cling onto a failing relationship, because you’re too scared to let go, when I know I could make you happier? You’re afraid to take the risk, because deep down, you don’t think I’m worth it.”

“This has nothing to do with your worth, Gerard.Don’t you dare try to bring it down to that! This is to do with me trying to figure out what the right thing to do is. Maybe from your side of things, it’s an easy solution to just break it off with Frank, and disregard our past. You see the bad parts, but I _know_ the good parts. He still loves me, and we have far more good memories than bad…I don’t want to make a decision I'll regret, and right now is not the best time for me to make any major decisions.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Sit around while you make up your mind?” Gerard scoffed.

“What you decide is up to you, Gerard. I don’t expect you to wait around, and if you want to walk away and cut off contact, then that’s your prerogative, and I respect that. I can’t ask anything of you, and I won’t.”

“God, you’re unbelievable. You think you can just say that, and it makes it okay. I can’t just switch off my feelings, and we both know that the minute you come calling, I’ll be there, because I can’t help myself.”

“Then don’t answer the phone,” I snapped, frustrated. “Take some goddamn responsibility for your own actions. You told me how you feel, when you _knew_ I was in a relationship. You kissed _me_. _You_ came on to _me._ Shit, you act like a victim, but you knew _exactly_ what the situation was. It was wrong of me to call over to you, but you could have closed the door in my face, and you certainly didn’t have to kiss me. I’m not going to feel guilty, because you can’t control yourself. You are _not_ putting that on me.”

My words were met with silence, and I didn’t even feel bad for saying them. I was tired of feeling bad about myself, and I was sick of feeling guilty. Gerard’s face was hard as stone, and I knew he was seething that I was right about everything. I wasn’t a bad person in this. I may have taken advantage of him, but damn it!He allowed me to do it. I wasn’t a villain in this, and part of the fault lay with him.

“Fuck, I wish I didn’t want you,” Gerard choked out, his hand gripping his cup so hard that I was certain he was going to break it.

“The feeling is mutual, believe me!”

I wanted to get up and leave, end it right there before I felt even worse about myself. Gerard was supposed to make me feel better about myself, not cut my character to shreds. Yes, I was selfish, but so was he. He could have left me alone. He wanted me, even though he knew I wasn’t available and he made the first move.

“I should go. This conversation isn’t going to get us anywhere.” I sighed.

“Don’t!” he grabbed my hand, his eyes boring into mine pleadingly. What he was asking for, I don’t know.

“We’re only going to go around in circles. You want me to do something that I just can’t do, and something I’m not sure I want to, or will do. I need time to figure it out.”

“Okay, then we won’t talk about it.”

I watched him with a weary gaze, wishing things were different. I wanted to be the bigger person and walk out of there, and just leave it at that. I couldn’t, though. He was looking at me, holding my hand with his delightfully rough hands, and I couldn’t help but remember when those hands had explored every inch of my body, as had his amazing lips. I shivered at the memory, awareness of how close we were running through my heated skin. It didn’t help that he was staring at me with lustful hunger, and all I wanted right then was to forget everything we had just talked about and screw him senseless. The electricity was palpable between us, and I knew he was thinking exactly what I was thinking.

“Do you wanna go back to mine?”

I nodded before I fully comprehended what I was doing. All I knew was that I wanted him. We abandoned our drinks, which were cold by then anyway, and we made what was becoming a familiar trek to his apartment. The second the door closed behind me, his lips were on mine, and I was relieved of my coat his hands were roaming over my clothed breasts. My hands went straight to his belt buckle, clasping the metal before working on his zipper. His hands found their way into my panties, stroking my clit with a soft caress and forcing a moan from my throat. His fingers hooked around my panties and pulled them down in one fluid motion, while I pulled his erection free from his jeans. He hitched my dress up around my hips and grabbed the back of my thighs, lifting me up so I could wrap my legs around his hips. He entered me in one, long, achingly slow thrust. I could feel every inch of him, and it clouded the rest of my senses as he began a slow, steady pace. It was pure heaven, being so close to him, being so connected with him, and just surrounded by him. He was all I could smell, all I could feel, and his breathless moans were the only sound I registered. His lips nipped at my earlobe, instantly causing me to tighten around him with a moan so loud that next door certainly would have heard it. Nothing else mattered during those blissful, pleasure-filled, unadulterated lustful minutes. When I reached my peak, I came hard, clutching and scraping at his back and screaming his name.

I didn’t think about Frank once during those minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> As always, thanks go out to the readers/commenters/subscribers, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
> 
> Lyra


	20. Chapter 20

“I have to say, you seem a lot happier recently.”

My fervent gazing at the beige carpet was broken by Nina’s words. I looked at her, surprised by her assertion. Did I really seem happier? How could she tell? Was it in my body language, or in the things I didn’t say? I was thinking about how I changed over the past three months, since Frank and I had talked, and yes, things had improved. I was no longer as distant and afraid of him leaving me as I had been. I was more ‘there’, when I was with him, and the same was true for him. Our sex life was back on track, or at least good enough that Frank had no that idea I was sleeping with Gerard on a bi-weekly basis.

Every Saturday, I would meet Gerard. Frank knew of Gerard’s existence now – I had to tell him something to prevent him being suspicious. I told him that he was teaching me photography, which wasn’t a lie, and I would show Frank the pictures as proof. I told him that Gerard had suffered the same kind of abuse as I had , and that was enough to ease Frank’s doubts over me spending time with another man. I’m certain he thought Gerard was gay, and I did nothing to dissuade him from this assumption. Gerard would take me somewhere new in his car every week, and of course every place had something to do with whatever lesson he wanted to teach me. By then I was really getting the hang of using a camera in a more creative way. I thought about things like angles and perspective when it came to capturing an image. It wasn’t the same mindless hobby it had been to me as an eight year old, but with Gerard’s encouragement it became just as meaningful, or perhaps more so, since Iwas more able to appreciate what a joy it was to still be here to do it. It was during those days that I fell in love with Gerard even deeper, and his smile, and the reassurance he always gave me when I doubted myself. I felt free when I was with him. I felt unburdened, uncomplicated and just…myself. I got to know Gerard better too.

I found out about his brother, Mikey, who he talked about non-stop whenever he got the chance. They were as close as any siblings could be, and I was envious that the only excuse for a sibling I had was an evil monster whose name I could barely mutter. I found out about his high school years, and how tough they had been for him. That had been the time when he had started drinking, to deal with the bullying and the aftermath of his own abuse. He had told me the horrors of what the priest had done to him from the age of ten, when he was an innocent little boy, who had an unwavering faith in God. He told me how the priest had told him that he was taking Gerard’s sins away by molesting and raping him, that he was really saving his soul from damnation. Even when the abuse ended, Gerard was tormented by the doubts he felt over his sexuality, and the fear he had that it would get out. He had fought hard to keep Mikey away from the priest’s paedophilic hands when Mikey had been pressurised into serving as an altar boy by his parents. That was when the truth came out, and with it the disintegration of his parent’s marriage. His father blamed his mother for encouraging Gerard to be an altar boy, while his mother blamed his father for not seeing something was wrong. They divorced, leaving Gerard with the guilt of being the instigator of his parent’s separation. He drank to excess during high school and college, having fleeting relationships that never lasted long, once the extent of his drinking problem became noticeable. I almost cried when he told me about his multiple suicide attempts, which poor Mikey had saved him from every time. With every new admission and insight into the man that he was, I felt a deeper connection between us, and the desire to be with him grew.

I still had my down days. Sometimes the crushing weight of what had been taken from me would come crashing down unexpectedly, after another nightmare that was little more than a forgotten memory of the vile things that Nick had done to me during his years of abuse. Sometimes they were of the day that I had found my father bathed in a pool of his own blood. The only constant during those times was Frank’s comfort when I needed to be held, and the knowledge that Gerard was only a phone call away if I needed him. The guilt over my relationship with Gerard, and how un-guilty I felt when I was with him, was a trigger for the nightmares. I felt worthless, cheap and like the whore Nick had always told me that I was, whenever I was Frank, in his arms, while he was unaware that I was falling in love with another person.

That was why I hadn’t ended my relationship with either one. The two men fulfilled two different needs that I found myself craving. Frank was comfort, love and the safe place I needed to fill the void from the lack of security that I had felt as a child. Frank was happiness, and a reason to try and be a better person. Frank stayed with me even after he had found out about my past, and because of that I loved him even more. Gerard was the one who made me want to be a part of the world again. He was an outlet for the passion I needed to unleash. He pushed me to be myself, to allow myself to be me without any apologies. He was an equal, who understood the depth of my pain and anguish, without me having to spell it out. He understood my bad days, because he had them too. He made me feel needed, like his world would stop if I wasn’t in it. He would text me goodnight every night, and every morning he would text me, just to let me know that he was thinking of me. I felt horrible, and dirty, and completely unworthy of either men’s affection or love. People always made love out to be such a simple thing. That you could only love person at a time, and that was that. I was learning that it wasn’t so, and I could only wish it were indeed that simple. The idea of losing either was a pain that was too much to bear. I would sit down at night sometimes, when Frank was busy elsewhere, and write a list of their pros and cons. I figured that if I could see their positives and negatives on a cold piece of white paper, that it would make things clearer. It never did, though. Their positives and negatives always equalled out, leaving me more confused and indecisive than before.

Despite the guilt I felt, and the down days, things were certainly much better. Nina, as much as I loathed admitting it, was an outlet I found necessary these days. She cut through my crap, and rarely let her true feelings show. Her neutrality, though irritating, was something I soon realised I needed. She never made me feel bad about myself, and she didn’t force an opinion or a desire on me. She listened, and let me cry and feel self-pity on the days that I needed it. She had given me coping strategies for my depression, which were slowly working. She never forced me to speak about my parents, and our topics of conversations mainly revolved around Nick, and the depression I was slowly climbing out of. She refrained from asking about Gerard, though I was certain she was smart enough to realise what was going on. So, in a way, her observation was right.

“I am happier,” I confirmed, letting the words roll off my tongue with a strange taste.

Was it wrong to be happy, given how selfish my actions have been? It felt immoral to find happiness in something that was so frowned upon, something so hurtful and possibly life-damaging. It didn’t feel like it was wrong when I was with Gerard, and I was beyond happy with Frank, and still as in love as ever.

“You’ve made some good progress, Grace. I think maybe now is a good time for us to move things forward.”

I frowned, not understanding what on earth she meant by ‘moving forward’. Did she want to refer me on to someone else? Did she feel that I no longer needed therapy?

“I think it’s time we delved past your abuse, and looked at your relationship with your parents.” She supplied when I failed to vocalise a reply.

“I don’t want to talk about my parents,” I replied surly, with an expression I was certain matched my tone.

“Grace…we’re at a point where we need to delve deeper to get to the root of some of your issues that stem from before Nick. You avoid acknowledging your father’s death, and you never mention your mother. These are things that are holding you back, and they will continue to do so until you begin to talk about them.”

I let out a sigh, knowing better than to deny her insight. She normally proved herself to be right, and I wasn’t going to go around in circles for the sake of it.

“My father killed himself, because he was a coward, and my mother is a heartless bitch.There’s not much more to say about it, really.”

Nina sighed, leaning back on her couch with an unamused expression.

“Grace,” her tone was slightly stern, in a motherly way.

“I hate them.Both of them.”

The words had been thought a million times, but never spoken aloud, even to myself,in the dead of night. The sentiment was true though, something many would see as a crime, but the truth was that they had both failed me. My father had chosen to kill himself rather than face up to his gambling debt, and admitting to my mother that he had lost us everything; and then my mother threw herself into her second marriage, without any consideration for her only daughter. Her desire to move on left her with no time for my pain, to help me grieve for the man who had been my world, and make sense of what had happened.

“You’re angry at them” Nina corrected.

“You’re right about a lot of things, but this time you’re wrong. I hate them. They brought me into this world, and then abandoned me, because they were too selfish to be proper parents. My mother was there physically, but she didn’t want me around once she had George. She didn’t see what was happening under her own roof. She remarried for money, and left me to suffer in every way possible, during my teenage years. She loved a boy that she didn’t even give birth to more than she loved me. He’s the perfect son to them, with a perfect life, and I’m just second best in comparison.”

“How was your relationship with your mother before she remarried?”

I had to pause and give the question some consideration. I never thought about my childhood, and as such, my memories seemed hazy.

“Good, I think. We used to bake cakes and buns together, and go shopping together. She would read to me before bedtime, and all that motherly stuff. Then my father died, and it changed. She forgot about being a mother, and she only thought about money. We were being hounded by creditors when my father died, so she married the first rich guy who would take her.”

“Did she ever try to bridge the gap in later years? Or try to reach out?”

“Not really. Sometimes she would try to take me on a girly day out, which I would refuse, but that was it.”

“Do you think that maybe she felt rejected by your refusal to spend time with her? We can get ourselves into cycles of habits. You were hurt by her remarriage, and felt rejected. She reached out, so you reject her in return.”

“I was a teenager. Of course I rejected her when it was her fault that I was being raped every night!”

It wasn’t until I was taking deep, calming breaths that I realised that I had been shouting.

“Sorry, I just… That woman… She’s the reason for everything bad that has ever happened to me.”

“Don’t you think that’s a harsh statement?” Nina was unfazed by my outburst.

“My father gambled, because she only cared about money. She’s the reason he gambled, and the reason he killed himself. If she hadn’t married George, I would never have met Nick. She was so busy trying to have a perfect life, that she couldn’t see what was happening to me. She didn’t care that I was becoming withdrawn and depressed. She didn’t talk to me about why she was marrying again, so soon after my dad had died – she came home one day, and told me that I was going to have a new father, and that was it. I had no say, no opinion on the subject. The only emotion she showed towards me during that time was anger, whenever I was caught lying again. She didn’t ask me why, or try to get me to speak to someone. I was a fucking inconvenience to her. She didn’t care about me.”

“Grace, perhaps we should try to look at the circumstances from her perspective, for a few moments. Her husband had killed himself, leaving heralone with a child, and a mountain of debt. She was scared, confused, hurt and grieving. Her main focus, as a parent, was to find financial stability and get the creditors off her back so she could provide for her child, so she took an easy way out to gain that financial stability. Parents have a habit of underestimating what their children can understand, and how much they should explain; and perhaps she didn’t want the argument, when the situation was what it was. From a child’s perspective, it’s harsh and cruel, certainly, but looking at the situation now, from an adult’s point of view, can you perhaps see the situation in a more…sympathetic light?”

I glared at her, angry that she was defending my mother and her actions, even if her words made sense to the reasonable, adult part of my mind. The part of me that clung to my childish interpretation of the situation didn’t want to acknowledge that maybe I had refused to reassess and understand my mother’s actions as I got older.

“You were right to be angry,” Nina continued, “She handled the situation in a way that left you feeling unwanted, but understand that she was grieving too, and she did what she felt was right, given the circumstances. Perhaps, if you try and think of it that way, you may find yourself less angry. She’s a human being, who makes mistakes, and by acknowledging that, we can begin to heal and move on. Have you ever tried to speak to her about it, to hash things out, so that both of you can try to mend the relationship?”

“No, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want to. I see her every few months, and that’s enough for me. I don’t need her in my life.”

Nina raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I think you should consider talking to your mother about it, as a way for you to get some closure, if nothing else. Would you consider telling her about Nick?”

“No,” I spoke too quickly.

“Well, I still think that it’s something to think about.”

“We’ll see,” I told her vaguely, knowing that the topic would now be on my mind for the rest of the evening.

“Our time is up for today, but, as I said, give it some thought over the next week, and we can discuss it further next Monday.”

“I can’t wait,” I muttered sarcastically, ignoring the glare that Nina sent me as I walked out of her office, feeling worse about myself than I had going in.


	21. Chapter 21

“So, are you gonna tell me what happened with Nina?”

I sighed, keeping my eyes shut while Gerard’s lips were grazing my shoulder blade, soft and smooth against my skin. We were in his bed, like every Monday evening, naked and wrapped around each other after a pretty amazing round of sex. I had tried to push the conversation out of my mind, and recently I found that Gerard’s arms were the best source of distraction I could find. When I was in his arms, I didn’t think, I didn’t feel anything but him inside me, bringing me to new heights of ecstasy, and everything wrong in my life faded away into non-existence. I didn’t even have to try, really – Gerard was amazing at everything he did, and that included sex. I didn’t want to think about how much experience he must have had to become so…skilled. He just _knew_ how to push me to my limits, and then leave my hanging there until I begged for release. Every flick and lick of his tongue drove me crazy with lust, and it was impossible to deny him anything when he touched me with his amazing, artistic hands. I had been completely consumed by him when I had all but dragged him to his apartment, forgoing our customary coffee stop. Looking back, I could see how he could’ve picked up on my obvious restlessness when I left the office when I had hardly spoken.

“We talked about my mother,” I told him flatly, my tone expressing that I wasn’t in the mood to talk further on the subject. I supposed I shouldn’t have been too surprised that Gerard belligerently ignored it.

“You never mention her,” he spoke softly, as though he knew he was treading on thin ice.

“I know.”

He sighed, and I felt a stab of guilt. I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t want to be open with him. It was just a topic I wanted to avoid talking about. I wanted to sweep it under the carpet, let it rot and disintegrate until it ceased to exist. I hated that Nina had made me think about my mother, and I was angry that she forced me to consider the option of telling her the truth about Nick. I knew that there would only be one ending to that scenario. She wouldn’t believe me, not for a second. Nick was perfect – a golden child, who was the perfect son that any parent would love to have. My mother would never accept that Nick was nothing but a paedophile, who preyed on his stepsister during the most vulnerable time of her life. My mother would rather believe that her daughter was still a liar, resentful of how well Nick had done for himself. In my mother’s eyes, being a legal secretary was nothing. It didn’t matter that I actually earned a good wage, or that I had a nice apartment, and that I had an amazing boyfriend, who was also quite successful in his field of business. There was no way that that particular conversation would end in a satisfactory way for me. It would be a final nail for my mother, and there would be no way to take the words back, to deny a long withheld truth. Any chance of having a normal relationship with mymother would be destroyed, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it. Maybe there was a part of me that wanted things to be different.

“Gerard, it’s not that I don’t trust you. I don’t like talking about her to anyone. That woman is the reason for everything bad that’s ever happened to me, and I prefer to ignore her existence when possible.”

“I think that’s sad.”

I turned to face him, shocked by his tone and the sympathetic look on his face.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure she feels the same way about me.”

“I doubt that very much.”

I let out a bitter laugh, one that was cold and harsh but that perfectly summed up how I felt about his last statement.

“You don’t know her like I do. She’s a cold-hearted woman who never loved me. She cares about appearance and money. Anything else is just…unnecessary, including me.”

He didn’t say anything after that. He cupped my face, capturing my lips in a kiss that could only be described as loving. He had yet to repeat the sentiments he had told me the night that he had first kissed me, but I felt it. It was in the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, and how he made sure that I knew that I was on his mind all the time. I was glad that he hadn’t spoken the words, though. I wasn’t ready to say them back, or refute my feelings. I think he knew it too, and he avoided explicitly saying it. Part of me wanted to say the words, just to make him smile. It was strange that I was utterly confident in how he felt about me. I felt somewhat narcissistic acknowledging that, but it was so hard to deny something that was made so abundantly clear in his actions.

“I’m sorry that she made you feel that way. You are the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and your mother is a fool for not making sure you knew how perfect you are.”

I blushed, his words making my stomach clench with giddiness.

“I’m far from perfect, and you know it.”

A slow grin appeared on his face, showing off his teeth with a boyish charm that made me melt every time I saw it.

“You’re perfectly imperfect. You’re the biggest contradiction I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“What about for a million dollars?” I giggled.

He looked thoughtful for a few seconds, rubbing his chin mockingly.

“Well, a million dollars is a lot of money…”

I shoved him playfully, letting out a girlish giggle. I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards him in that second. He was the only person who could’ve made me laugh right then.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me for telling you how I feel.”

I shook my head.

“You know you’re an idiot, right? If you were smarter, you’d be staying far away from me and spending your time with someone-“

“Better? More available? Less fucked up? I could, you know. You’re right. It’d be the smarter thing, and hell of a lot easier. That’s not what I want, though. I wish I did, but I don’t. You’re the only person I want to spend time with, even if that time is limited.”

I sighed, the all too familiar twisted pain in my gut flaring back to life. Fuck, I wished things could be different. I wished I was more decisive. I wished I wasn’t such a coward. Above all, I wished that my heart wasn't torn in two between two men who were both far too good for me. Neither of them deserved my shitty treatment, and if I were a better person, I’d walk away from them both so that they could find someone better. I’m not a good person, though, and I was slowly coming to terms with that. Nick had been right all those years ago. I was a whore, and though I had spent years trying to deny it, my actions now only proved it to the world, if they were to know exactly what I was doing, and see what I was capable of. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t nice, and if I believed in God, I would be destined for hell.

“One day you’ll see.”

I furrowed my brow at the almost serene, yet intense look that took over his beautiful face. I had no idea what he meant.

“See what?”

“One day you’ll see yourself the way I see you.”

I couldn’t speak. His eyes were hooded, but sparkling with an honesty that was clenching my heart in a vice grip. My throat tightened up, my breathing stalled before it became rapid with the overwhelming range of emotions that were hurled at me. Fuck, I didn’t know how I felt when he did this. Part of me wanted to glory and bask in it, enjoy every second of his praise and admiration that would never be deserved. The other part of me was just plain frightened by it, and wanted to run away and hide from my feelings and his intensity. He made me feel good about myself - too good, at times. That, more than anything else, was what made me come back, and what made it so utterly impossible to stay away when I knew I shouldn’t be coming back. Deep down inside, I think I was beginning to understand why I was unable to make a decision.

“One day you’re going to see the real me, Gerard. And you’re not gonna like it, when you do.”

I thought about Frank right then. He had finally seen every side of me, and yet he had stayed with me. Things were different, yes, but strangely we were a little closer than before. I saw the irony in that - that things were perhaps the best they could have been, yet I was having an affair on the side. Gerard wasn’t seeing my flaws properly. He was covering them up, blurring over them and not accepting them. It was a case of ‘rose tinted’ glasses, and one day that would fade. Maybe it would be soon, or maybe it would be years down the line, but it would go away, and his misplaced adoration would be gone in a flash.

“I see who you are, Grace.”

It was too much. I shut my eyes, counting to five in my head before reopening them, swallowing the lump in my throat and calming my breathing down a notch.

“I think I should go,” I flashed him a smirk, itching to leave and not have to deal with whatever the hell I was feeling right then. I was suddenly pinned down by the wrists, preventing me from getting up.

“Don’t. I’m tired of watching what I say, in case you walk away. Do you know how that makes me feel when you do that?”

I saw the hurt and anger in his eyes, his lips thinned out unattractively as he fought to containhimself. I was almost frightened by the sudden aggression in his tone, and his dominating action, but I knew he would never hurt me.

“Do you?” he asked again when I didn’t answer.

I hadn’t thought about it, was the honest truth. I didn’t think about how it must feel to constantly hold himself back. For the first time, I put myself in his shoes. I thought about how much it must hurt to see someone you care about going home to someone else. I thought about how shit it must be to be afraid to say the words you wanted to let role off your tongue, out of fear that the person you wanted to say them too would walk away, like they had before. It hit me hard then, watching him watch me with big eyes that shined with pain. It was wrong of me, to keep doing this to him. I should have ended it, right there and then. Get the pain over with, let him hate me and think I was the devil in female form, out to destroy him with everything in my power. And yet, I couldn’t. His eyes were begging me to say the words he wanted to hear. He was pleading, beseeching me to just give him what he wanted, to make him happy and be what he needed. I wanted to, staring back at his powerful gaze that was so convincing and overwhelming to the extreme.

“I’m sorry,” was all I could choke out.

He shook his head, a wry smile on his face.

“You know you drive me fucking crazy? Sometimes I just want to-“

He stopped himself, sighing with frustration and dipping his face into the crook of my neck as though trying to compose himself. Maybe he was. I wasn’t sure. He didn’t let go of my wrists, something that should have bothered me. I hated being restrained – Nick would do it frequently, and I had never indulged in any kind of bondage with Frank. I was afraid that it would bring the memories back, that it would hit me unexpectedly and then I would panic. Panic would lead to explanations or lies, and I didn’t want to do either, so it had been avoided at all costs, not that Frank had brought it up. Of course, once I started thinking about it, old memories came rushing back, as I feared.

“Gerard.”

He sensed the panic straight away. His head shot up, and when I wriggled my wrists, he seemed to understand immediately.

“Sorry,” he apologised, guilt swimming in his eyes.

I kissed him, knowing that it would convince him that I was okay, better than words. He didn’t need much convincing, his lips gliding over mine with a sweet caress. I pulled away, knowing that we didn’t have time for things to go any further.

“I really do need to go,” I whispered, biting my lip.

He attached his lips to the flesh on my neck, slightly sucking on the flesh.

“No, you don’t.”

I sighed, my head fighting with my body. I needed to go. I knew that if I stayed much longer, Frank would question where I was for so long.

“I really do.”

He huffed, clearly annoyed, but he refrained from saying anything, and rolled off me. The atmosphere was tense and filled with unspoken anger as I dressed, feeling Gerard’s eyes watching me with scrutiny. He was holding back, and even though I wasn’t facing him, I could just tell that his lips were pursed, tightly shut to avoid saying something that might drive me away. I hated that I made him feel like he couldn’t be honest. I had run away and lashed out so many times that by then he just kept quiet, instead of saying what he needed to say. I knew what it was like to stay quiet when all you wanted was to scream, or shout, and vent. I finally faced him when I was fully clothed, and I couldn’t help the little smile when he held a hand out for me, beckoning me to go back to the bed. I obliged, crawling on top of him, straddling his hips, which were clad by a thin bed sheet.

“One day, I’m gonna make you stay.”

His jaw was tense with determination, and I knew he meant it. I just smiled and kissed him.The kiss was fleeting, but full of meaning. I couldn’t decide if I wanted that to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Things will really pick up in pace soon. I know there's been a real lack of Frank, but that will be fixed next chapter. Your thoughts would be appreciated and welcomed.
> 
> Lyra x


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> As always, thanks for reading. Drop a line or two if you can. Let me know what you're thinking!
> 
> Lyra

I heard the familiar sound of the television blaring the minute I opened the apartment door.  I shut the door behind me with a gentle push, shrugging off my coat in the process. I dumped my keys on the small desk by the coat rack and trudged into the sitting room, where Frank was slouched on the couch in all his glory. His arms were slung over the back of the couch, the remote in one hand and his gaze focused on the television. He didn’t hear me come in or notice my presence yet. I drank in the sight of him, in a tight white t-shirt and a snug pair of jeans that emphasised just how toned he was.

“Hey, baby,” I greeted, injecting enthusiasm into my voice. Not that I wasn’t happy to see him. I was. I just always felt a huge amount of guilt when I came home after a tumble in the sheets with Gerard. I was paranoid that he would smell Gerard’s scent on me, or just sense that I was sexually satisfied and a little less tense than normal.

“Hey, you. How was your day?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from the screen and giving me his full attention. His hazel eyes were the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. Big, round, and warm, I found myself melting into them whenever they were on me. It was hard not to get lost in them, and the warmth they invited. His smile was another thing that made my toes curl. Sometimes it was utterly boyish, charming and endearing, and others it was nothing but pure unadulterated sex, making my insides melt with need.

“You don’t want to know,” I sighed, remembering my session with Nina. It was better to think about that, than to think about Gerard.

“You know I do.”

“Fine,” I sighed again, reminding myself that I was trying to be honest with Frank when it came to my sessions with Nina, “I’m gonna take a shower first, though.”

“You know, I think I’m in need of one too. Maybe I should join you?”

He had that filthy smile on his face, and I knew that he was thinking about more than getting clean. He wanted to get downright dirty, if anything. Guilt stabbed at me again when I realised that I was far from in the mood. I wanted him, but it was only an hour ago that I’d been underneath Gerard, screaming his name from the top of my lungs. I couldn’t deny him, though; not after I had made a big deal about our lack of intimacy. I forced a smile on my face.

“Maybe you should,” I agreed.

I led us to the bathroom, where we stripped off our clothes and stood under the gushing warm water. While I may not have been shuddering with anticipation before Frank put his hands on me, it certainly didn’t take very long for my blood to boil with need again. It was probably a good thing that our shower was electric; otherwise the shower would have been running cold by the time we dragged our sated, but clean, bodies out.

“Nina wants me to meet up with my mother,” I informed Frank once we were clothed again, lying on the bed, under the covers, even though it was barely nine o’clock.

Frank was surprised, a flicker of confusion making his brow furrow and his lips purse slightly. He knew how I felt about my mother. I had never told him about the specifics. Or anything about it, really, for that matter.It was one of those things that was abundantly clear whenever she was mentioned. He had, of course, tried to pry and ask questions, all of which I had dodged with enough success to stop him asking again.

“Why?”

“She thinks it might help with my anger or something. She wants me to tell her about Nick.”

Frank’s eyes searched my face, what he was looking for, I wasn’t sure, but he didn’t seem to find it.

 “How do you feel about that?”

The giggle escaped before I could prevent it. Frank’s offended glare didn’t help, though, and it was a solid five seconds before I could explain.

“Sorry, just… You should be a therapist.”

He poked me in the ribs, drawing out a sharp cry of surprise from my lips.

“Yes, and you’re avoiding answering the question.”

I sighed, biting my lip and giving the question serious thought.

“It’s going to be the end of any relationship with her,” I thought out loud, voicing the thought that scared me more than I was willing to admit. “She’ll never believe me, Frank. Even if a part of her sees the truth, she’ll never let herself acknowledge it. You know as well as I do that Nick is this angel sent from Heaven to be the perfect child in her eyes. I may be her blood, but…Nick is her son by choice. I’m just a reminder of the man who would rather leave her in the most permanent way possible than face the fact that he couldn’t cope with her demands. I lied and pulled tantrums when she was going through a hard time, and I don’t think she ever forgave me for not being a more understanding eleven year old. And I can’t forgive her for not forgiving me. I don’t want to.”

Frank took in my words, and I could see him digesting them, breaking them down, and giving them some consideration before making a response.

“Are you really so certain that she won’t believe you? Your relationship is rocky at best, but you _are_ her daughter, Grace. And if you really wanted to kill your relationship with your mother, you would have told her years ago, if you truly believe that that’s going to be the end result of the revelation. On some level, you want to have some kind of relationship with her, but because of what Nick did, you haven’t been able to bridge the gap with her. Maybe…maybe this is the thing that will start mending your relationship.”

I took in a shaky breath, his words affecting me in a way I hadn’t anticipated. He was saying words that the broken child inside of me wanted to believe. The traumatised little girl that I had kept buried deep down wanted to know that her mother still loved her, that her mother still cared, that she would protect her from the evils of the world, and comfort her when those efforts failed. I wanted her to believe me, and the possibility that she wouldn’t was too scary a consequence, if my words weren’t enough to convince her.

“I don’t know if I can handle her not believing me, Frank.”

Silent tears were wetting my cheeks, staining the cream pillowcase with every drop that fell. Frank’s arms were around me in seconds, pulling my head to his chest. His large hand was stroking my hair, soothing me.

“Grace, it’s going to be okay. No matter what she says, just remember that I believe you. That’s all that matters, okay? But I think Nina is right; you have to tell her. I know it’s scary, and it’s going to be tough, but you’ve been through worse, and your still here.”

“That’s only because I have you.”

The words were muffled, almost lost in the fabric of his top, but he heard them anyway. I could feel the little smile on his face at my words.

“Would you feel better if I went with you? We can go for a dinner somewhere, just the three of us. If things go badly, we can leave, and that will be the end of it.”

I nodded against his chest, afraid that if I spoke again, I'd lose the battle against the full-on sobs that wanted to break free.

“Do you wanna go to sleep?” he asked, sensing that the conversation had taken a lot out of me. He slipped out of bed when I nodded again, his feet padding across the floor to switch off the bedroom light. He crawled back into bed, cuddling me in the dark in silent comfort that meant more than any words he could utter.

**

The time went by quickly. Way too quickly for my liking. It was Friday, a quarter past seven in the evening, and Frank still wasn’t here. I was freaking out, my eyes locked on the entrance, afraid that I might miss him sweeping in with an apologetic smile on his face and whispered words of encouragement before my mother arrived. My mother was a prompt woman, and I knew that she would be here in less than ten minutes. Frank was cutting it really fine to make it on time, causing my skin to dampen with panic and paranoia that something terrible had happened, and he wouldn’t make it. I knew I was overreacting. Frank would call if something came up.

The same moment the words crossed my mind, my phone rang, jolting my body in shock. Frank’s name popped up on the screen, swiftly followed by a sickening feeling in my stomach. It was one of those moments of premonition, when you just know something bad is about to happen. I almost didn’t press accept, afraid that my biggest fear was about to come to life.

“Frank, where are you?” I whispered, my voice shaking, but I didn’t care.

“Grace…there was an accident on the freeway. The traffic’s jammed up, and I have no idea how long it’ll be before it’s cleared.”

“But I need you here.”

I sounded no older than a toddler then, biting my lip to restrain the tears that were quickly clouding up my vision. This couldn’t be happening. Not when I needed him most. I couldn’t face my mother alone without him by my side. It was like asking a child who was afraid of the dark to go down into a basement with no light. My heart was palpitating, my breaths were coming out too fast, but it felt like I wasn’t breathing enough.

“Grace, I’m so, so sorry! I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered with a cracked voice, the pain and disappointment I felt

“I love you.”

I knew he felt bad. I could hear it in his voice. I acknowledged that it was out of his control, and that he would be with me right then, if he could. That didn’t make me feel any better, though. It didn’t stop the anxiety, the anger, the self-pity, and hurt that made my hands shake while I tried to contain myself in such a public place.

“Love you too,” I respond automatically, out of habit, in spite of how furious I was at him then for leaving me to do this on my own.

I had gotten the courage to do this because he had told me he would be here. Frank would be here to back me up, defend me if needs be, and maybe even have the courage to tell the truth, if words, and my brain, failed me. I was scared shitless, but knowing he would be beside me had made it seem less seventh-level-of-hell terrifying. Now, I was here, with not enough time to cancel, or wits about me to deal with this.

I couldn’t help but wonder if it would have been better if I had asked Gerard. Would Gerard get stuck in traffic too, right when I needed him the most? Or would he be here with me, sitting next to me, holding my hand and whispering sweet words to calm me down and give me the strength to do something I should have done years ago.

Then I saw her come in through the doors. She looked as fabulous as always – designer clothes, immaculate hair and makeup, and a graceful air that made heads turn with the confidence that exuded from her slim frame. The fake smile that took up half her face was immediate when she saw me, and suddenly she was Mother Theresa incarnate. She looked happy to see me, and when she approached the table, she made sure she hugged me in full view of the restaurant, just to emphasis what an amazing mother she was. I could see it for what it was, though – a lie. A bar faced lie, meant to fool the world into thinking she was someone nice, warm and loving. Maybe she was, but I couldn’t remember the last time I had been on the receiving end of that kind of affection from her.

“Grace, how are you?” she exclaimed, almost sounding sincere.

“I’m good.How are you?” I didn’t think when I responded. It was ingrained in me to give that response. Anything else was met with a glare.

“Oh, I’m wonderful! George and I just got back from Crete. It’s fabulous!You and Frank must go sometime.”

“Sure,” I give a half-hearted smile, my stomach heavier than lead; and when the waiter came with our menus, I seriously questioned if I would be able to eat. I wanted to throw up right on the table, just heave my insides – show my shame and fear for the world, and my mother, to see.

I ordered a salad when the waiter came back with our water. My mother ordered the same, but for entirely different reasons than me. She was all about keeping trim and looking good. Heaven forbid she should gain a pound or an extra inch on her hips.

“So, where’s Frank? I thought he was joining us?” she questioned, taking a sip of ice cold water.

“He’s stuck in traffic. There was a crash or something.”

“Oh, yes! I heard something on the news about that. There was a big pile up on the freeway. Poor dear! He’ll be stuck there for a while.”

I swallowed.

“You look tired, Grace. Are you getting enough sleep? You should really start investing in some anti-wrinkle cream, dear. You’re not getting any younger.”

“I’m only twenty six, mom,” I remind her.

And so the criticisms began. _Why hadn’t I gotten a better job yet? When was I buying my own apartment? When was Frank going to propose? Was I holding off on marriage?_ I endured them all, biting back the urge to snap. She stopped when the waiter came back with our salads, giving us both a smile that begged for a good tip at the end of our meal. My mother eventually lost interest in my life, and I was soon listening to her talk about herself. It was amazing what the woman would fit into her life. She was involved in many charities, the local church, and any group that would take her. I never understood her need for social acceptance and notoriety. She wanted to be everything to everyone -everyone except her only daughter.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of my daughter’s company?”

Of course she would get bored eventually, rightly believing there was more to my dinner invitation than just a family get-together. I wasn’t ready for this. I couldn’t do this. Fuck, this wasn’t the right time or place. I should have waited for another time, when Frank was with me to hold my hand.

“I just thought it would be nice to see you. Is there something wrong with that?” I lied through my teeth.

“Grace, I’m your mother. I know when something’s wrong. Did you and Frank break up? Is that why he isn’t here tonight?”

“What? No, no, Frank and I are fine.” I said too loudly, too quickly. My mother gave me a look that stated that she clearly didn’t believe me. Hell, I wouldn’t have believed it, if I had heard it. My nerves were getting to me, my head was hurting and my heart was going crazy in my chest.

“Grace, how many times have I told you not to lie? You’re a bit old to be at that now. Do you need a place to stay? You’re always welcome to come back home, you know.”

“Frank and I are fine,” I stated again, more firmly.

“Then what is it? You can tell me, Grace. I don’t see why you always avoid telling me things. You like your secrets far too much,” she scolded me.

“Some people don’t like knowing the truth.”

My mother’s face fell for a split second, picking up on the thinly veiled jibe at her.

“Now, Grace, there’s no need for that. What’s all this about?”

I took my mother in, as she sat across the table from me. Her pale face was watching me, judging me, waiting for me to say something that would make her even more disappointed in me than she already was. Her thin lips were set in a straight line, her face trying hard to stay neutral until the familiar disappointed expression took its place.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist for a little while now,” I decided to start easy, lead up to the revelation that was the reason for me being there that night.

“Oh, I see… Why do you need to see a therapist?” she asked coolly, and I could tell I’d ruffled her feathers a little. She was worried about what I’d said about her, and what slanderous insults I’d revealed to another human being about her. It bothered me to see it, to know what she was thinking underneath the false concern. She didn't care about why I was going. She only caredif I was bitching about her to someone else.

“I tried to kill myself…I slit my wrists, to be precise. Frank found me in time, but he made me go see someone.”

I didn’t know what I was expecting from her. I had counted on one of two reactions – dramatic tears, or cool indifference. The shocked look on her face, the glassy eyes and pale skin wasn’t what I had imagined seeing.

“You…Grace, why?”

It was strangled, and even more startlingly, it sounded sincere. She looked crushed, devastated and completely and utterly shaken, all at once. It threw me off course, made me doubt if I was indeed doing the right thing. Should I have told her that? Was her knowing that I had tried to end my life going to make things better, or change them? Was I only adding more hurt and pain to an already strained relationship?

Within that doubt, though, there was something else; something that told me to keep on going now that I had started. To let it out, to say my piece, and just deal with the consequences, whatever they may be. I had started the dialogue, I had given her a glimpse into the real me for the first time since childhood, and suddenly I realised I didn’t want to stop, as painful as it was. I needed this. It was a form of exorcism, a cathartic cleansing of my soul.

“There are things you don’t know, mom,” I said with a shaking voice, my hand shaking so badly that I put my glass down and stared at the table, gathering the guts to continue.

“What things, Grace?”

I took a deep breath. There was no way to phrase what Nick had done to me that would make it less…horrendous. Nothing would sugar-coat, make it easier to swallow, or simpler to digest.

“Nick abused me.” I said simply, with a numbness that took me by surprise.

“Excuse me?”

And there it was. The anger and denial, as I had expected. Gone was the motherly sympathy I had seen moments ago.

“Nick raped me for years before he went to college.” I clarified, finally meeting her eyes and straightening my shoulders.

“How _dare_ you make up such lies about Nick?! Nick is a good man.He treated you better than most stepbrothers would treat their stepsister, and you have the nerve-“

“Oh, yeah, he treated me _real_ good when he was tying me to my bed and raping me whenever you and George were asleep.”

I didn’t see it coming when her hand met my cheek. My mother was normally more in control of herself, especially when in public. Her face was now red with fury, nothing but anger and resentment being directed at me.

“You ungrateful little brat! All my life I tried my best to raise you into a decent human being, and instead, what do I get? A selfish liar who spreads vicious accusations against her own family.”

“And I got a mother who cared more about money than her own daughter. I got a mother who didn’t see what her beloved stepson was doing to her own child, she was so self-involved with keeping up appearances.”

She stood up, her chair drawing attention from the other diners in the room.

“I was a good mother to you, Grace. You were just too selfish to see it. Don’t bother calling me until you’re ready to apologise.”

She didn’t say a goodbye before she stormed off; throwing me a dirty look which showed that she felt nothing but pure hate towards me. I sat in stunned numbness for what felt like eternity, my brain trying to calibrate what exactly had happened. Then it hit me like a freight train, and all I knew was that I needed to get out of there, and fast. I didn’t remember throwing money down on the table, or grabbing my coat and bag and all but running out of the restaurant with curious stares following me out. I hailed a taxi, and there was only one place that I could go right then.

Gerard looked happily surprised when he opened his door, a smile of delight on his face. Then he saw my expression and it immediately turned to concern.

“Grace, what happened to your face? Did Frank-“

“My mom.” I cut him off, and if I wasn’t in such a state of shock, I would have berated him for thinking Frank was capable of such a thing.

“Shit! Come in!” He ushered me in with urgency.

“She didn’t believe me. I knew she wouldn’t, I knew it, but- fuck!” I whimpered when I sat on his couch.

He didn’t say anything. I think he knew nothing was going to make the situation better, or make me feel better. He wrapped his arms around me, letting me sob onto his chest, and giving me the kind of comfort that Frank should have been giving me right then.


	23. Chapter 23

I didn’t go home to Frank that night. I was just so angry, so hurt; too raw and emotional to really want to put myself through the agony of explaining what happened all over again. Frank hadn’t been there when I needed him, so in my spite, I felt like he didn’t deserve to be the one to comfort me. My phone rang, and rang, and rang, the ringtone driving me insane and piercing my eardrums to the point of near nausea from the high-pitched tone, until I sent him a short and blunt text telling him that I was okay and in a safe place, and turned my phone on silent.

Gerard didn’t say anything about the phone calls. He didn’t ask why Frank hadn’t been there.All he asked was why I hadn’t called him. In hindsight, I really wished I had. I wish I had picked up the phone and called him, pleaded with him to be there with me when Frank had failed to show up. I didn’t give him an answer, though in truth I knew why. I couldn’t ask for more of him than I already had. I take and took, and took, and every time I took a little more; it chipped away at me a fraction more, it made me want to hurt myself to get rid of the guilt.

It was midnight when Gerard finally cleared his throat awkwardly and asked if I was staying the night. I’d nodded my head, my eyes tired from the sobs and my mind a fog of weariness and exhaustion. I don’t remember him taking me to bed. I may have fallen asleep on the couch for all I know. I woke up in his arms, in his bed, warm, comfortable, and for a few moments blissfully not recalling the events of the night before. Then, when the haze of sleep drifted away, it came back, and I felt numb. Like it hadn’t happened. Like it wasn’t real. It felt like it had been a dream, a nightmare that clung to consciousness, and stored its images in my memory bank to decipher its meaning in the waking hours. Gerard was still sleeping, his face a serene picture of peace. His mouth hung open a little, leaving a tiny sliver of drool to leak onto his pillow. It didn’t bother me, or disgust me. I found it oddly endearing. It was real – he was real. He wasn’t perfect, but he was real, and he was mine...for the time being. There was a part of me that wanted to wake him up, just to see his amazing hazel eyes first thing in the morning. I wanted to see what kind of morning person he was – was he the cheerful kind, or the grumpy grouch who didn’t function until he had a hit of caffeine. I imagined a mix of the two in my mind. I couldn’t see him being an irritable grouch who snapped, but I imaged he only perked up once he had coffee. I suppose maybe I just wanted to see if my image of him was accurate, if I knew him as well as I thought I did, or hoped.

When he did wake up, not long after me, he greeted me with a lopsided smile that caused my cheeks to flush.

“Mornin’, sugar,” he rasped, throat a little hoarse from sleep.

“Morning,” I muttered shyly, curling into his side and just enjoying his warmth, his scent, the feel of him next to me, and just how comfortable it all felt. It was safe. It was near perfect. We didn’t fool around that morning, we just laid in bed for a while, before hunger made me get up and look for food. It turned out that Gerard didn’t stock much food, but the bread was good enough to toast, and the coffee was wonderful. It hit me with a pang that I was looking into what might be, what _could_ be, if I were to choose it. _Was this what every morning could be like? Could it always be this relaxed, this warm, this loving? Or was it just because this was still a novelty, and a first time_ _, so we were both on our best behaviour_ _, and thankful that we were there._

Of course, my phone rang, Frank’s name flashing on the phone, and the normal guilt I felt wasn’t there. Not as strongly, at least. I knew he must have been worried.He probably felt guilty and like shit for something out of his control, and I knew it was wrong of me to let him strew in it. I could see that now, when the shock of my mother’s hatred for me had faded. Gerard’s face was blank, void of a tangible emotion, but I knew he was frustrated, knew he was angry that our bubble was being ruptured when I picked my phone up.  That, I felt guilty about. I ran to him for comfort, then I got to go home with someone else, and he’s still here, waiting for my return. I answered, telling Frank that I was on my way home.

“I should go, but I’ll be back later. Where are we going today?”

He gave me a sad smile, one that told me that he knew I was just trying to distract him, and remind him that, even though I left, I would always come back.

“You’ll see. You’ll love it.”

He pulled me into his arms, his hands resting on my waist, and he planted a closed mouth, lazy kiss on my lips. I loved moments like this, when the lust was a little faded, and it felt like more than a seedy fling. Because it wasn’t. It was real…I just hadn’t decided if it was going to last.

“I’m sure I will. I’ll text you when I’m on my way over.”

Gerard nodded, releasing me, He gave me a last peck on the cheek before I left, and in no time at all, I was back home, opening my front door.

“Grace?”

I rolled my eyes with a little smile at Frank’s voice.

“Who else has a key?” I called out, shrugging off my coat just as Frank appeared in the hall.

“Hey.”

He sounded relieved, and by the smell of him, I could tell he was just out of the shower.

“Where were you?” he asked, and I knew he already knew the answer before I spoke.

“Gerard’s. Dinner was…intense, and I just needed to talk to him about it.”

He nodded, and for the first time, I noticed a sharp look in his eyes. He was trying to see through me, see if I was telling the truth. He raked over my body, his gaze felt as penetrative as an x-ray, and I just knew he was looking for a sign of something. I couldn’t help but be thankful that I hadn’t had sex with Gerard when I went to his place.

“What happened to your face?”

I touched my cheek reflexively, having forgotten that my mother had struck me. It wasn’t a big, dramatic mark, but there was still a tinge of pinklingering on the skin. It would fade completely in a day or so.

“She hit me, in the restaurant, in front of everyone. After she called me a liar.”

“Fuck, Grace.”

His arms were around me in an instant, sheltering me and comforting me in the way only Frank could. I was pressed against him tightly, so tightly that I couldn’t move, could barely think, could barely breathe. I thought I had gotten the tears out of my system the night before, but my tear ducts went straight back into overdrive when I was in his hold. I didn’t sob, but a few tears escaped of their own dereliction.

“Grace, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. Fuck!That bitch had no right to put a hand on you. Godfuckingdamnit!”

I could feel him shaking with anger. Frank was an emotional guy, but he kept his feelings under control. He rarely rose to anger, or expressed the more negative emotions he felt. He was all smiles, encouragement, and optimism. I think that’s what drew me to him in the beginning. I had been hurt, damaged, full of a need to be self-destructive and swimming in depression. Frank came along, with this innate sense of joy for life, and a ‘glasshalf full’ outlook, and the negatives could never outweigh the positives, if a positive was to be found. It wasn't in an obnoxious, false way a lot of people put out (this is where my inner Holden Caulfield came out; I called them ‘fakes’). Frank was just unwilling to let life get him down. He wanted to focus on the good things, search for the good side of a person, and not dwell on the bad for too long. He saw the bad, he acknowledged it, but then he moved on, and refused to waste his time sending out negative energy. Seeing him cut up, feeling him tremble like this, almost made me feel worse than the words my mother had spoken. I never wanted to be the cause of Frank being hurt, or angry.

“It’s okay. It didn’t turn out any differently than I expected. I finally cut a tie I should have gotten rid of a long time ago.”

“I should have been there,” he bit out harshly, pulling away and taking a hold of my arms, his eyes meeting mine.

“It wasn’t your fault, Frank. I heard the report on the radio.It was just bad timing. You can’t control some dick of a drunk driver causing a fucking pile-up. Yes, it sucked that you weren’t there,” my voice shook at that part,” And yes, I’m pissed that you weren’t there, but…it wasn’t your fault. I know it wasn’t. I don’t think you being there would have changed the outcome.”

Frank worried his lip, and I could see a faint scar on his lower lip where his lip ring used to be. I wondered if there was anything I could say to make him feel better.

“I wish you’d come home last night. I thought you were mad at me.”

“I was, a little,” I admitted, “But that’s not the only reason why I didn’t come home. I just needed to talk to someone who understands.”

“Right.”

I didn’t like his tone. His voice was tight, strained, so unnatural to him. There were lines of displeasure on his forehead, his lips stretched thinly over gritted teeth when he elongated the ‘t’ sound, ending the consonant sharply. His eyes, which normally shone with warmth, were hard, tense and it made me uncomfortable to be on the end of such a gaze, one that screamed suspicion.  Fuck. A tense silence followed. It felt strangled, a little suffocating and the thrill of fear that Frank would question me, would ask the one question that would bring our relationship crashing down, was thrumming through my veins with adrenaline.

“How about we do something today, just you and I? When’s the last time we took off for a weekend?”

That stumped me, threw me off completely. The fear vanished instantly, and a wave of happiness washed over me. I smiled, excited at the prospect. He smiled back, erasing the harsh expression, and a little bit of warmth came back to his dark eyes.

“Where will we go?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just drive. Let’s pack a bag, and just drive.”

I clapped my hands together excitedly, and in a fit of giddiness, I jumped up and down on the spot. Then I remembered that I was supposed to meet Gerard. The happiness and giddiness left, leaving an emptiness in it’s place. Frank noticed immediately.

“What?”

“I just…Gerard and I normally do a bit of photography today…” I spoke softly, biting my lip, and letting out a little breath. Frank furrowed his brow, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s one Saturday. It shouldn’t be a big deal to cancel one day with him. I don’t know. I just thought it would be nice to spend a bit of time together.”

I swallowed nervously. I felt pressured, as though Frank was testing me. He was watching my expression carefully, and it took every ounce of strength I had to keep it together.

“You’re right. I’ll text him, take a quick shower, and we can go.”

I forced a smile, which became genuine when Frank wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling our chests together and planted a soft kiss on my mouth.

“I’ll pack a bag.”

He slapped my ass with a light, but slightly stinging, tap. I watched him go into the bedroom, letting out a sigh when he was out of sight. I pulled my phone out, pulling up my messages to  Gerard. Stupidly, tears formed in my eyes. I felt horrible, guilty, and it killed me to type out the message that I wouldn’t make it that day. It was killing me, doing this - trying to inhabit two worlds, and avoid them colliding disastrously. There was something off about Frank that morning, and I realised what a stupid move it was to stay over at Gerard’s. Now, he was on the defensive. He was going to be watching me closely. I knew better than to think he would check my stuff, or follow me, but he was definitely going to be vigilant for a while. I rushed into the shower, letting the guilty tears flow with the hot water. I couldn’t act upset about spending quality time with my boyfriend, a man whom I loved more than I could ever describe. I took longer than needed in the shower, washing away my guilt, in order to pull myself together. Okay, it sucked that I was letting Gerard down. It sucked that the little time we spent together was being cut short. But, this was a good thing for me and Frank. We needed to get out of our routine of doing nothing but movies, shopping and going out for dinners. After so many years together, you get a lot of things out of your system. We’d travelled together, we’d gone bungee jumping, camping, every winter we went ice skating...and so, you run out of things to do together that feels new when you settle into adult life. We were tired after work, and money had to be spent on bills before anything else. Things slipped a little, which was natural.

Stepping out of the shower, I pushed the thought of Gerard away. I couldn’t change things now. There was no point in going off with Frank, and ruining it by letting myself drown in guilt. I thought I may as well go all in, and deal with the guilt when Frank wasn’t around. I ignored the niggling voice in the back of my mind, the one that was telling me that something was going to give, and soon. I got dressed, smiling when I saw Frank had left an outfit out for me. I threw it on quickly, dried my hair and applied a minimal amount of makeup, thanking God for BB cream. When I met Frank in the sitting room, he was putting a leather jacket on, over a black top and jeans, and I let myself revel in his beauty for a moment.

“You ready?” he asked with a smile, enjoying the fact that I was still checking him out after all these years.

“Yup,” I giggled, taking his proffered hand.

I saw a reply from Gerard flash on my phone as I put it in my handbag, but I didn’t read it. I switched the phone off, tossing it in the bag, and followed Frank out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, it wasn't deliberate...I just got lazy.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, big things are ahead in the next two chapters...actually, the next like, eight chapters or so are going to be a little crazy!(This is going to run to about 50 chapters, there or there abouts.) Can't wait for you guys to see what I have in store...I'm getting to the part of the story I've been dying to share! *Squeals* I'm going away to London next week for a few days, but if I get a few comments, maybe I'll update this before I go (Yes, that's a not so subtle hint for readers to comment). 
> 
> Lyra xxx


	24. Chapter 24

“I must admit, your advice to talk to my mother worked splendidly.”

My sarcasm and spitefulness was vented the millisecond my ass touched the brown couch in Nina’s office. It was neater than usual. The stack of papers and files normally left on her wooden desk was gone, leaving only a few sheets on the desk. If my tone wasn’t enough to tell her exactly how I was feeling, I was sure my heated, angry glare, thinned out aggressive lips and almost barred teeth were a red-light alarm that I was far from okay, and I swear to God, if she so much as asked “how are you?”, I’d be charged with murder in the first degree by the end of the hour. I wouldn’t even deny it. I would’ve willingly gone to jail if she so much as tried to act stupid and ignorant.

Nina sighed, defeated and annoyed.

“What happened?”

“Let’s see. I told Frank about your genius idea, which, of course, he agreed to, because you’re the shrink, so you must know what you’re talking about, right?”I let out a little bark of laughter, “I organise a dinner, which Frank was supposed to come to, for moral support. But, get this – some fuckwit of a cocksucker decided to drive intoxicated, and block up the fucking freeway-“

“Oh, I heard about that,” Nina commented.

“Block up the freeway,” I repeated, “Right when Frank was on it. So, he didn’t show. It wasn’t his fault, so I can’t be angry at him for bailing when I fucking needed him, can I? Anyway, my mother comes in. All fucking high society, designer clothes and everything you’d expect from a stuck up bitch. You know, I should give her credit – she actually asked a few nice questions before she slated my non-marital status and lowly job as a legal secretary, because what the fuck would it matter if I _actually_ enjoy my job? Then she prattles on about her _amazing life_ _,_ and what an _amazing person_ she is for squandering money which she didn’t lift a finger to earn. Eventually, she cut to the chase, asked me what I wanted. So, I told her. I told her that Nick abused me. It was so hard to do it, when I knew exactly how it was going to end. She called me a liar straight off the bat. Then, she fucking smacked me, in _public_. She took his side over mine, and he wasn’t even there. She just didn’t believe me, like I knew she wouldn’t. She said I should be grateful he was so good to me. So, yeah, thanks for that. Give out your wonderful advice more often. Maybe I can get a smack on the other cheek to even out my skintone.”

Nina sighed, rubbing a shaking hand over a frown-lined forehead.

“Grace, I said you should _consider_ the possibility. I did _not_ tell you to confront her before we could discuss a strategy. Okay, let’s take a step back. You told Frank about our discussion.”

She didn’t rise to the bait.She didn’t get defensive, or apologise, or do anything of that sort. No, she was ignoring my burst of anger, and doing one better, she was making me feel like the situation was entirely my fault. I clenched my fist, let out a deep sigh, and reminded myself that getting angry at Nina wouldn’t change anything. The damage was already done.

“Yeah,” I sighed, leaning back on the couch. I raised a leg, resting my right knee over my left leg, and folded my cupped hands.

“Do you regularly discuss our sessions with Frank?”

“I have recently. At first, I didn’t, but we had a talk a little while back, and I told him I’d be more open about what goes on in here. I don’t give him a lot of detail – barely any, really – but it makes him feel more involved, or something.”

“Do you think it’s made a difference to your relationship?”

“Yeah…I think so, I guess. Frank is more relaxed now, and he’s almost back to his old self. He’s being affectionate again, and all that stuff. I think. He appreciates the fact that I’m trying to tell him more about Nick, and other stuff. Frank doesn’t react well when he feels like people aren’t being honest with him.It puts him on edge. Now that he pretty much knows what’s going on, he’s a lot calmer, less agitated.”

“So, I take it your relationship is getting back on track, then?” Nina asked, the semblance of a genuine smile on her face.

“If you count me still having sex with Gerard as back on track, then, yeah, I suppose we are,” I muttered sadly.

Nina went back to her default neutral voice. I could see a little bit of anger and judgement flashing behind her eyes, only briefly, before she leaned back further in her chair, appraising me with her large eyes.

“You’re continuing your affair with Gerard?”

“That’s what I just said,” I snapped, hating the word ‘affair’. It made me feel dirty, like a cheap whore who couldn’t keep her panties on. Part of me wanted to tell her that I didn’t want to talk about it, but the bigger part of me needed to talk to her about it.

There was a pause, that lasted no longer than a heartbeat, but I knew what she was going to say before she opened her mouth.

“Why?”

I swallowed, unable to maintain eye contact. My focus shifted to my skirt, and I started to pick at a few balls of fluff that had gathered on the material.

“I…”I cleared my throat, “I think that I love him.”

I don’t know if I expected the world to stop, or to explode, or for some other catastrophe to happen. The admission out loud, vocalised and out there for another person to hear, seemed like such a dramatic thing. It was a big deal, but nothing happened. Nina’s eyes just widened, her expression softened a little, but otherwise nothing had changed.

“That’s an interesting development. How long have you felt this way?”

I shrugged, still not looking at her.

“A long while, I think. I just haven’t let myself think about it.”

“How does this fit around your feelings for Frank?”

I was starting to shake. I felt nervous, judged, under the spotlight, and on the stand.

“I don’t know.”

Nina was still looking at me when I didn’t elaborate. I could feel her gaze, and I knew that she wasn’t going to let this topic die, not yet.

“When I’m with Frank,” I began, my voice wavering with emotion, “I don’t think about Gerard. I’m happy with him. I feel safe.Loved. Then, I’m with Gerard…and I don’t think about Frank. I feel like two different people sometimes. With Frank, I’m this better version of myself. I know I went through a tough time recently, but now I feel like I’m moving past that, and I’m back to the girl I was before. Frank is like…he’s like my foundation. He keeps me grounded, and he makes me feel like I can achieve some sort of normalcy. Even after everything, he’s still sticking by my side, and he’s trying so hard to make things better, even though none of this is his fault.”

“He sounds like a good man,” Nina commented.

“He is.”

“But there’s obviously some need that he’s not fulfilling. What is it that Gerard gives you?”

“I feel like I can just be me. He’s there for me. I can fall apart in front of him, and I don’t have to worry about how he feels about it. He knows it’s not personal, he knows that sometimes I just need to break down and let it out, and all I need is for him to be there, that my emotions are not a problem that needs to be fixed. He understands how I felt back then with Nick, and I don’t have to tell him the gory details for him to get it, like I do with Frank. He knows me better than I know myself sometimes. There was this one day, when we were talking over coffee, I told him about how I used to take my father’s camera and take pictures.”I smiled sadly, remembering the conversation, “I used to love it, and my father would always act like every picture I took was this magnificent piece of art. I stopped when he died – my mother got rid of his camera, and the pictures I took, and it lost its meaning when he left. Anyway, I told Gerard about this, and then the fucker goes and buys me a camera. Not just a cheap digital camera either.It’s a professional camera that I’m still learning to use. He takes me out once a week with the camera now, and he’s teaching me a bit about photography. He had to take a photography class in college, and I think he enjoys showing me something new. I was a little angry, at first. I mean, taking photos felt like something that had been special between me and my dad, but it’s like he knew I needed to do it. It had been an outlet for me when I was a child.It made me feel like I was special, and it made me feel like I had control over something. Now, I have that little bit of control back, and that’s because of Gerard. We go out, and it’s like I’m in a different world. I feel like we’re equals.”

Nina was silent. Her shrewd eyes hadn’t left my face the entire time I talked. She appraised me, listened to me, and now that I had said my piece, I felt strangely hollow. I didn’t know what she was thinking, as she leaned back on her couch with an ease that didn’t make me feel comfortable. There was something calculated in her manner, and I could tell she was thinking and judging, but I had no idea what it was that was going on in her mind. It was putting me on edge, and I was unconsciously biting my fingernails when the seconds turned into a minute as I waited for a response.

“Do you plan on keeping both men?”

And there it was, the judgement I’d been dreading. Her tone didn’t give it away. It was the way her eyes were a little narrowed, a little bit colder than normal. Her crow's feet were standing out under her makeup. She was trying to hide it behind a wall of apathy, but it was impossible not to feel it radiate off her in waves that seemed to span the whole room. I couldn’t even blame her, or tell her she was wrong. She was right to judge me, and think the worst of me, and tell me that I’m a horrible person. I deserved to be told that. I deserved every minute of this.

“No. I know it’s wrong, and I know I’m hurting both of them.”

I paused, biting my lip, before divulging the real reason I was so angry when I came in.

“I spent last Friday at Gerard’s place. We didn’t have sex, though. I was upset after everything with my mother, and Frank wasn’t there, and it really fucking hurt. Gerard just held me, and it was so nice to be there with him, without it leading to anything, because it always leads to sex. There’s just so much chemistry between us, so it’s kinda hard for it to not lead to more when we’re together. The next morning, we woke up and had breakfast, and it was like a vision into the future. It was so normal, so domestic. Everything is always so intense with Gerard, and for that little while, it wasn’t. It was like we were a normal couple, just getting some breakfast on a Saturday morning. Then Frank called me, and reality set it. I could just see the look on Gerard’s face, and I think it really hit me for the first time that I couldn’t keep doing it. I always knew it was wrong, and I always knew it hurt Gerard, but…it just came crashing down on me then. I went home, and Frank was all apologetic for not being at dinner, even though it wasn’t even his fault. Then he suddenly wanted to go away for the weekend, like we used to do when we were in college. We used to just get in the car and drive. Sometimes we’d stay in a cheap motel, if we had the money, but mostly we’d camp out. We didn’t care where we went, we’d just drive for days on end, going to new places. We had so many adventures in his car, met so many people and saw so many things. I was so excited to do that again, to just get on the road and leave the shitiness behind for a little while. We ended up driving for half the day before we stopped. We went to an aquarium, stayed in some generic hotel for the night before we went back home.”

“Did you have fun?”

I nodded, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“We did. We saw a penguin march, which was pretty cool. They, like, let the penguins walk out for half an hour. They don’t force them out, or anything; they just open the enclosure, and whoever wants to wander out, just walks out. He bought me a dolphin necklace at the gift shop, it’s silver with a blue gem. He said it was a memento of our trip together. I think it meant a lot to him, for us to go away, and just be us again.”

I broke off again, taking in a low breath.

“I was thinking about Gerard, when I was with Frank, for the first time,” I continued. “I was thinking about how I had left him to go away with Frank, when we were supposed to spend the day together. I had told him that I’d be back, but I had to text him and tell him that I couldn’t meet him. I thought about how angry Gerard probably was, how hurt he must have been. And I thought about how suspicious Frank was when I came home, and for the first time I considered the possibility that Frank might find out. The whole time I was away with Frank, it was, like, one minute, I would be in the moment with Frank, and then, the next, I’d picture Gerard’s face, or I’d picture what would happen if Frank saw the messages on my phone, and I felt this flash of panic.”

“What do you believe would happen if Frank found out?”

I didn’t need to think about the answer to Nina’s question. The answer was obvious, and the truth scared me more than anything else.

“He’d leave me. We’d be over. He’d never forgive me for it.”

Nina sat forward on her couch, and I instantly straightened up. I recognised this as a sign that Nina was about to say, or ask me, something that I needed to think about, something that would be painful.

“Is Gerard worth the risk to your relationship, Grace? I’m not asking for an answer now, but you’re reaching a point where the two relationships are going to collide. If Frank is becoming suspicious, and you continue on this path with Gerard, it’s only a matter of time before Frank will try to find out if his suspicions are correct. Do you want him to find out, maybe? Is your relationship with Gerard a mechanism to destroy a relationship you’re too afraid to end yourself?”

“Of course not!” I snapped.

Nina sighed, but she didn’t waver.

“Grace, it’s important that you decide what it is you’re looking for from this scenario. Juggling two relationships is not going to work, so you need to decide which one works best for you. Is Gerard giving you what you need,something Frank isn’t? You say you love him, but is it a love that’s based on a genuine connection that can form the basis of a long lasting relationship, or is it a matter of Gerard being what you need right now, and when the intensity goes, so will your feelings? You have to consider which relationship is the healthiest for you, long term. Every relationship has its rough patches, and some relationships just run its course. I’ve already told you before that I think you need a break from both men. Currently, you’re not in a position to make the best decision. Even a few days away would be of benefit. You’re overwhelmed, and that won’t cease until you find a place where you can rationalise what’s happening.”

I nodded, but, in my mind, I couldn’t help but focus on the most important question she’d asked.

_Was Gerard worth it?_

 I would lose Frank, my apartment, the life I had built, if I were to get caught, or if I left. Nina was right, it would only be a matter of time before Frank found out, if things stayed the same. There are few people in this world that could inhabit two separate worlds, and I knew I wasn’t one of them. Something would give, sooner or later. I would slip up, or become careless, over time. Either way, the truth would out itself eventually, and the real question was, who was I willing to lose? There was a moment of bright clarity, my ears ringing, while Nina continued to talk, uninterrupted, unaware that I was no longer listening. I felt light-headed, my stomach turned to lead, but before I walked out of the office that day, I knew what it was I had to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for the delay in writing this. I ended up having a busy 2 weeks, that included a holiday in London and a bunch of interviews. I also know that leaving you with this cliffhanger isn't much of an apology, but the next chapter should not take so long to post. So, what do you wonderful readers think Grace will do next chapter? Who has she chosen? I really wanna know what direction you guys think this is going to head in. I hope you guys enjoyed this offering, and please leave a bit of feedback if possible. 
> 
> Lyra xxx


	25. Chapter 25

There’s a difference between knowing in your mind what the right thing to do is, and knowing in your heart. I always thought that once the mind knew what was right, the heart would follow, because obviously, the mind knows better. The mind sees things more clearly than the heart. The heart lets emotions get in the way, without taking other things into account. I had never had my head and my heart so horribly disconnected before. My heart wanted me to be selfish. Or, maybe it was the excuse I told myself to free myself of the responsibilities of my actions. Whatever my excuses, whatever my desires, I _knew_ better then. I knew the logical ending to this scenario that I had led myself into. Either way, it was going to hurt. Badly. All I could do was take the pain, and make sure that I used it as a lesson on how low I could let myself sink when self pity and selfishness took over.

I was shivering, from the unseasonably cold chill in the air, and nerves. I bit my lip, which, to my surprise, was a little dry and chapped. It didn’t really matter, though. Not right then. I needed to focus. I had gone outside, instead of waiting in the reception. It felt too small, too suffocating, and the memories that the place held was just too overwhelming. I wondered if I’d be able to stand being in that office anymore. Little mental notes were flying through my mind, things that I would have to do as a result of the choice I was making. I chewed on my lower lip, wringing my hands together anxiously, as I wanted time to speed up. I knew it was going to be like a band aid – do it quickly, and it hurts far less. I was going to be sharp, making the wound easier to mend in the long run, even if it was more brutal in the moment.

Fear of pain is always far worse than the pain itself. The nights when Nick would take his time to sneak into my room, leaving me to stay awake in terror for hours was the worst part of my teenage years. Being allowed time to think, to mull things over and plan and exaggerate what was about to come made me shake in anticipation, the cold sweat coating my skin as adrenaline would pump through my veins. Hearing the door gently creak open, and the light footsteps treading the carpet, was when the panic reached its peak. The flight or fight mode was taking place, and I always chose the flight mode. I shut down when the duvet was lifted up, and when Nick would strip me of clothes - I was barely there. I could barely register the way his hands would roam over my body, trying to get a reaction out of me. By then, I was almost glad that the thing I was dreading was finally happening. It meant it was going to be over soon. The act in itself wasn’t unpleasant, for the most part. That was what madeit easy for Nick to blackmail me into keeping quiet. He told me that I enjoyed it. He never left any marks on me, unless he was angry at me. The hours and minutes leading up the abuse was when I hated myself for what was about to happen, and how I couldn’t stop it, and why I couldn’t tell anyone what was going on behind the closed door of my bedroom.

I heard Gerard’s familiar footsteps coming down the wooden staircase, dissipating my trip down memory lane . The hollow steps made his every step sound louder, the even pace a countdown to what was always the inevitable. I swallowed nervously, took in a quick, sharp breath. My nails were digging into the palm of my hands, the pain relieving some of the pounding fear pulsing through my body. When he finally stepped outside, I wished I hadn’t seen him at all.

He looked awful. It made my breath catch in my throat from the shock, my eyes automatically blinking in a double take in disbelief. I knew straightaway that he’d been on a bender. He had the look of a drunk, though his steps were way too steady for him to still be too inebriated. He obviously hadn’t cleaned up after his binge. His hair was greasier than ever, his skin a greyish kind of sickly colour. His eyes were bloodshot, his eyelids rimmed with red that looked sore. He hadn’t gotten much restful sleep – his dark circles were almost black, and for a second I wondered if he’d gotten a punch to the face. His eyes were on me instantly. He straightened up, and with a deft hand, he pulled his packet of Marlboro red and a lighter out of his coat pocket. He walked down the steps steadily, lighting the cigarette as he came closer to me.

He reeked of beer, and what I thought was whiskey. It covered up the scent that I associated with his presence, which was a heady mix of paint and deodorant. I almost took a step back when he approached me, but I knew it wouldn’t be the smartest move to make. He was staring at me as he took a first drag, his long fingers keeping a firm grip on the stick as he appraised my appearance and waited for a response.

“What did you do?” I asked, unable to keep the lick of anger I felt out of my voice.

I berated myself the second the words were out of my mouth. Anger wasn’t going to help or fix this, though truthfully, I didn’t know what I could say or do to help him. I didn’t know the words to say to get what I felt across, or to convince him that what he had done was downright idiotic. In all the time I’d known Gerard, he had talked about his struggles with alcohol. I knew it had been a hard battle for him to reach a point where he could remain sober. He had almost lost his job over it, and many a relationship, over his need to drink to the point of blacking out.  His relationship with Mikey had suffered,  and Mikey had all but cut Gerard out of his life when Gerard had refused all of Mikey’s attempts to help him. By the time he had accepted that he needed help, he was on the brink of eviction, and on his last warning in work. Gerard had almost lost everything because of his addiction, but he had pulled himself back from the brink of total destruction. He had fought hard for his sobriety, and now, all that he had struggled for, all the tears and pain he had suffered to get to the point where he could get through his days without the bitter taste of alcohol to get him though, had been thrown away.

“Do you care?”

The bitterness was thick in his hoarse voice. He had every right to be pissed with me. I knew and acknowledged that, and the knowledge that his current backwards step into old habit was my fault stabbed me keenly. I wasn’t going to let it overwhelm me, though. Giving into the guilt, allowing it to fester and spill over in the moment, was only going to make this harder.

Looking back, it’s hard to decipher what it was that sparked the sudden coldness, a kind of peace and acceptance that washed over me. Maybe it was the pain in his eyes that made me want to cringe and hide. Maybe it was the way he looked, so broken and defeated, like he’d been crushed and tossed aside by life too many times. The detached way he smoked his cigarette, with no real care or meaning involved. Maybe it was the shred of hope that was hidden underneath the pain and anger he was directing at me. Like he wanted me to be able to comfort him, to make amends for the wrong I had committed against him. There was a height of expectation, one that had been on my shoulders all along but that I had ignored until now.  I retreated back into an old hiding place that I hadn’t visited in a long time. The cold wave was a physical metaphor for what was going on inside my head. I detached myself, much like I had done years ago. I couldn’t be what he needed me to be. I didn’t know how to be the person who could help pick up the pieces of another person’s life, no matter how much I wanted to be that person. It didn’t matter that I loved him, that I cared about him. I was a fuck up. I did nothing but hurt the people that matter to me, and for the first time, I could see that Gerard wasn’t as strong as he made everyone believe. Every wrong move I made would bring him down even more, and I didn’t want to be the person who made him go back down the dark path he had only just escaped.

“I think we need to talk.”

He didn’t react, at least not outwardly. He was keeping an even gaze on me, taking another drag, which was long and dramatic. When he exhaled, the haze of smoke that escaped came out in a steady stream from his mouth.

“Then talk.”

“Maybe we should get some coffee? Sit down somewhere.”

“Here is as good as any place.”

I held in a frustrated huff, agitation making me impatient.

“Gerard, I can’t do this anymore.”

His arm, which was moving to take another drag, froze in its tracks. The angered expression disappeared, replaced by bewilderment for a brief moment. Then, anger was quick to return. His eyes narrowed, and he threw his half smoked cigarette to the ground.

“Grace, it was a once off, okay? It won’t happen again.”

I just shook my head, taking a step back when he moved closer into my space. I couldn’t let him touch me; it would only break my resolve to do the right thing for once in my life. Because that’s what this was, even if it didn’t feel like it.

“No, Gerard, it won’t be. Not when I’m around. You’re gonna see that when you get a bit of space, just like I did. It’s for the best, Gerard.”

“It’s best for _you_ , you mean. You have one good weekend with your boyfriend, and I’m tossed aside, like last week’s garbage? After everything, this is how you end it? No, that’s not how this works. You don’t get to do that. You can’t just walk away-”

“Yes, I can. That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m walking away, and if you’re smart, you’ll do the same.”

I pivoted, determined to get away before the acrimonies were thrown around in the moment, but Gerard reached out with lightening speed, gripping my arm with a firm grip, that bordered on being too tight.

“You’re not just walking away from me, Grace. I deserve more than that. This isn’t just about you-“

“Gerard, let go!” my tone reminded me of a mother scolding a child, which was deceptively calm.

“At least talk to me about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Gerard. I choose Frank. You can say anything you want, but I’ve made up my mind.”

“Just like that?” he asked, almost incredulously, his voice tight.

“Just like that,” my voice somehow remained steady, and I met his gaze with what I prayed was a determined look.

He didn’t release his hold, his hazel eyes gleaming, sparkling in the dimming daylight, making them look almost green. His jaw was set tight, his teeth were gritting silently as he seemed to battle with himself.

“I choose Frank, Gerard,” I whispered.

He blinked, then recoiled, as though I’d burned him.

“It's better off this way,” I said with more conviction than I felt in that moment.

I gave him one last, sorry look, then I walked away, before I lost control of my emotions. I waited until I was safely away from Gerard’s penetrating stare,before I let the tears slip down my cheeks. I kept the mantra ‘I’m doing the right thing’ running through my mind, hoping that if I repeated it enough, my heart would stop breaking, and accept that I had made the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I apologise for the gap in updates. Life and lack of motivation got in the way. I hope this chapter made up for my absence. And, before anyone sends me hate, this story isn't over yet. This is the half way point. So...who knows what's still in store.
> 
> Action Kitty (formerly Lyra) xxx


	26. Chapter 26

I would love to say that things magically got easier when I cut Gerard out of my life. In some ways, it did. I didn’t have to feel guilty when I came home after my sessions with Nina. My Saturdays were no longer two extremes of maddening exhilaration when I was with Gerard and regret when I came home to Frank and prayed that I didn’t smell like another man had his hands all over me only hours before. I didn’t feel like I had to juggle two people’s expectations and emotions on top of my own ups and downs. I had changed my day with Nina, so that I no longer saw Gerard every Monday evening. Now, my Monday evenings consisted of going home, cooking dinner for Frank and a stubborn refusal to wonder what I would be doing if I hadn’t let go of Gerard that day. I spent my Wednesday evenings on Nina’s couch, trying not to flinch under her stare as she dissected everything I told her to the ninth degree.

My relationship with Frank had improved vastly in the meantime. He was a little curious as to why I suddenly changed my schedule and avoided Gerard on Saturdays. I couldn’t tell him the truth, but the lie was convincing enough that he didn’t question it. He had no reason to question whether we had had a falling out over something Gerard said. I think he was just happy to think that my time was no longer taken up by another person anymore. Gerard was nothing but a distant memory to Frank after a couple of weeks without his presence.

The thing was, Gerard wouldn’t let me forget him. At first, it had been missed calls and voicemails. At first, they were reasonable.

_“Can we just talk, please? Do you really think it’s fair that you get to walk away and leave me to pick up all the pieces? All I’m asking is for one conversation, I don’t think that’s an awful lot, considering everything.”_

Then, after two weeks of refusing to give into his pleading voice that haunted me whenever I listened to this message again, they turned. It wasn’t just the anger that startled me; his slurred speech and drunken ramblings struck a nerve.

“ _You really are just like the rest of the_ _m, aren’t you? Why wasn’t I good enough, Grace? I tried so hard to be good enough, but fuck it, I may as well just give in. What’s the point of fighting for something you never really had_ _, anyway? I just don’t feel like fighting anymore. You remember that feeling, don’t you? The one where it’s just emptiness and hopelessness, and nothing is worth it anymore…”_

I had to stop listening to the voicemails after three very similar ones had been left on my phone, tormenting me even further. I didn’t delete them- I couldn’t. I wanted the reminder there. I needed the pain. The pain felt good, in its own way. It was a different kind of pain to the one I had carried around with me for so long. This one was of my own making; it was deserved, and the suffering that came with it was one I could just about bear. There was something therapeutic about it, as strange as it was. I could handle the fact that it was my mistake that had caused it. It was almost akin to when I had used a razor to hurt myself. Self-harming, but the definition of being self, made it a kind of pain that was manageable. There was an expectation of how high on the threshold the pain would be, you prepared for it and sometimes even craved it. It was far more desirable to be the master of my own torment than have it at the hands of another person.

Of course, then there was Nina. She knew what had happened. She let me cry in her office, as I struggled to put how I felt into words. It was surprisingly difficult to explain how I was filled with relief and pain in equal measure. I knew I had done the right thing, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to know that I had hurt the person I loved. His voicemails and subsequent texts made it hard to distract myself from the thought of him. Part of me knew it was deliberate on his part, that it was his way of making sure that I couldn’t hide from the mess I had made. He wanted me to hurt over it, and he was definitely succeeding in his quest.

The texts were hard not to read, and even harder not to respond to. I wanted to end his pain. I wanted to be able to find the words that would just cure his anguish and rage, but I just couldn’t find the right way to tell him that I was sorry, that I wasn’t worth the misery he was putting himself through. I just had to believe that one day, the pain would be gone along with his feelings for me.

***

I was in the shower when it happened. It was Friday, the end of a long working week, and I was in desperate need of a long shower to ease my tense muscles. My weeks had gone according to plan. Everything felt like it was going okay, for once. I hadn’t heard from Gerard that day, which felt like a blow, as much as it was a release.

I should have realised how quiet Frank was when I stepped into the bedroom to put on my pyjamas.  I was too wrapped up in my head, though. I was thinking about work, and how thankful I was that a big case was finally over, so that the office could get back to normal. I was wondering about whether I should suggest that Frank and I should go away for the weekend. I didn’t hear Frank stepping into the bedroom, as I slipped on my shorts.

I jumped when I turned around and saw him, standing in the doorframe and staring at me with a look I had never seen on his face before. It terrified me to see the expression. It was hard, cold,his eyes a little dulled and his face was pale. Not as pale as the night he found me in the bathroom, but it was close enough that I was concerned.

“Frank, what’s-“

“How long?” he cut me off viciously.

I was stumped. I had no idea what he was talking about. The anger coming from his body infiltrated the room, suffocating me in its potency.

“Frank, I don’t know what-“

“Gerard. How long have you been fucking him for?”

That was when I saw it. My phone, clutched so tightly in his fist that I believed he could break it. I knew then that he had seen the texts, or maybe he had heard the voicemails. Either way, he knew. I couldn’t deny it. I couldn’t lie my way out of it. I was too startled, too frightened and too ashamed to come up with a coherent excuse that would plausibly get me out of the situation.

“Frank, just let me-“

“HOW LONG?” he shouted, stepping forward and entering the room.

I jumped, the volume of his voice hurting my ears and reverberating off the walls.

“It’s over now, Frank. I ended it.” I rushed out, before he could cut me off again.

“Well, isn’t that mighty great of you. How long, Grace? How long were you laughing at me, while you screwed another guy?”

“It wasn’t like that, Frank-“

“What was it like, then? Hhhmm? Because I’m just dying to fucking know. Was he good, huh? Is that it?”

“Will you let me explain? Please?”

He glared at me with eyes that were vacant of everything but anger. There was a brief pause, a stillness in the air. He took in a sharp, deep breath.

“When did it start?”

I knew that the only thing I could do was be honest. I cringed internally, wishing that I could find a way to turn back time and avoid what was happening. The moment was my worst nightmare coming into existence. My life as I knew it was destroyed. It was imploding, and I could do nothing to affect the outcome.

“About eight months ago.”

“When did it stop?”

“Six weeks ago,” I whispered.

He didn’t give a reaction, at first. He remained still, eerily calm, considering how much anger was emanating from him.

“Why did you end it?”

The question caught me off guard. I expected him to ask why I had done it, what we had done, and where.

“Because I love you. I want to be with you, not him.”

He nodded. It was hell in its purest, heinous form, waiting for him to say or do something. I was too afraid to open my mouth; there was nothing I could say that was going to make things any better.

“Why did you do it?” he breathed out after a tense five minute silence.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t fucking lie.” He hissed.

“I…I didn’t plan it, Frank. I was upset when it happened the first time, and it just spiralled from there.”

“How many times?”

“I didn’t exactly count,” I muttered shamefully.

“Ball park figure. How often?”

I was going to refuse him the answer. I knew that anything I said would be twisted. If I lied and said it was only once, then I had thrown away our relationship for a one night stand. If I told the truth, not only was I admitting that I was regularly sleeping with the two men, I was also rubbing in just how deep the affair ran.

“Couple of times a week, mostly.”

I wanted to hide from him when he flexed his fingers, clenching them even tighter than before.

“I can’t even fucking look at you right now. After _everything_ we’ve been through. All the nights I couldn’t sleep, because I was worried you were going to hurt yourself again. All the times I wondered what I was doing wrong, and what I had done to make you so distant. All that time, you were off fucking him. You _lied_ to me all that time. Were you even telling me the truth about Nick? Was that just a lie to manipulate me into giving you enough space so you could have your dirty little secret? God, you must have fucking laughed at me.”

“I didn’t lie about Nick,” I recoiled from him even further, physically sick that he no longer believed me. I should have seen that coming. I really should have, but it came as a punch to the stomach; winding me and leaving me almost incapable of speech. The affects of his words didn’t recede with passing time. Every second I stood there, the sting increased tenfold.

There was another pause. I didn’t know what was worse-his questions, or the silence between, as he thought out another question that only increased the gap between us now.

“Do you love him?”

His voice shook as he spat the words out. My fingers twitched nervously. I couldn’t stand the intensity of his stare, and the venom behind his eyes, and just how rigid his stance was. He was still as a statue, and almost as cold. His jaw was tense, as was his fist, like he was ready to throw a punch any second.

“I love _you_ ,” my voice was soft, breaking pitifully, as I uttered the last syllable.

My words didn’t affect him; not at first, at least. I could tell that he had noted that I hadn’t answered the question. He leaned against the doorframe, running his two hands over his face.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t…I can’t wrap my head around this. Fuck!”

“I’m so, _so_ sorry, Frank. I never meant for it to happen.”

“No, you just never meant to get caught!”

“That’s not true! You think it didn’t kill me, lying to you? You think it made me feel good about myself?”

“Oh, poor you. It must have been so fucking hard, going back to him every time! What did you get out of it? Was he a good lay? Oh, let me guess, he was a good listener, wasn’t he?”

“I went to him because he made me feel good about myself!” I yelled.

I wanted to take the words back, the second they left my mouth. Frank’s face fell, stunned, before a giggle escaped him.

“Wow. He made you _feel good_ about yourself? That’s where I went wrong, huh? So what, me telling you that I love you every day wasn’t enough? Doing fucking _everything_ for you wasn’t enough? Standing by you, when you could barely function, wasn’t fucking good enough?”

“Not when you wouldn’t look at me. Not when you didn’t know the truth about me.”

In a flash, the phone he held in his hand was thrown across the room, hitting the wall, and ricocheting to the ground with a dull thump. I flinched in surprise.

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Grace. How was I supposed to react, when you wouldn’t talk to me? Don’t you dare put this on me. I did fucking everything-“

“I know you do everything for me! You did what a good boyfriend should do. But you couldn’t understand, not like he could. He understood what I went through in a way you never will.”

“Well, excuse me for not having a fucked up childhood. I’m sorry I never had to deal with anything more serious than parental divorce.”

“I’m just trying to explain, Frank.”

“How about you just stop explaining then, because you’re really not doing yourself any favours. Fuck, does it even matter? Regardless of why, you still fucked him.”

The tears were streaming down my cheeks silently. I sat down on the bed, my knees too weak to continue supporting me. The stalemate was tense, even when Frank eventually sat on the floor, his back and head leaning against the wall, as he focused on the ceiling. I didn’t know where to look. My eyes went from the bed sheets, to the floor, the ceiling, to Frank, before going back to the bed sheets, and beginning the cycle again.

“Tell me what I’m supposed to do?”Frank eventually broke the silence, not looking at me, but instead focusing on the ceiling. “I wanna fucking hate you, and walk away, so badly, but I still love you. I really wish I didn’t, right now. My head is saying that I should leave. I know I fucking should.”

“I don’t want you to go,” I choked out.

He looked at me then. His eyes were glassy, but he didn’t let the tears fall, unlike me, who was a silent blubbering mess on the bed.

“How can I ever trust you again? Why should I even try?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right, Frank. Just…just let me try, okay? Let me try and fix this. I can fix this.”

My voice wavered.

“Maybe it shouldn’t be fixed,” he replied tonelessly.

“I don’t believe that. You said it yourself, after everything we’ve been through together. We’ve been through too much.”

“And yet it wasn’t enough for you to keep your panties on.”

I flushed with the harshness of his words. I saw a flash of regret in his eyes, when he saw how his words stung.

“Come with me to see Nina. We can work through this, Frank. I know we can.”

He sighed. His hazel eyes shined in the florescent light of the room.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he muttered, standing up, and calmly leaving me in the bedroom with my thoughts and bitter regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've stated on my other stories, I am humbly sorry for the pause on updates. Life was hectic. New job, new house, all that jazz.
> 
> So, who saw this coming? What should Frank do? How do you guys feel?
> 
> Lyra xxx
> 
> PS, I'm on twitter. Follow me @MCR_Lyra to chat, ask questions and/or remind me to update. Hope to see you guys there!


	27. Chapter 27

“I must say, it’s nice to finally meet you, Frank.”

Nina’s voice was cheerful. Too fucking cheerful, really. What right did she have, to sit across from us with that plastered smile on her face, and act like this was nothing more than a friendly get together?

“Likewise,” Frank’s voice was polite, as he always was. Only, I knew that he wasn’t feeling nearly as polite as he sounded.

Things were tense. We sat on opposite sides of the couch, which was a flashing light to anybody that something wasn’t right. I was sitting up too straight, causing my back to ache from the new position (I always had terrible posture). Frank was leaning forward, his knees resting on his thighs, and his hands clasped together.

“So, what brings the two of you here?”

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help it – it was obvious why we were there.

Neither of us answered. I don’t think either of us were ready to admit what had happened out loud. We had avoided talking about it in the days since Frank had found out. We avoided talking, full stop. Frank didn’t look at me, didn’t talk to me. When I asked him if he wanted to come with me to the session that night, he had only nodded his head. He was like a robot, on autopilot. He went about his day, but I could see the faraway look in his eyes whenever he was home.

I felt like I had killed a part of him. The part of him that always fought, that always had a glimmer of hope, that never gave up, had disappeared. He was so listless in his actions; nothing seemed to have any effect on him anymore. It scared me shitless, to see the man I loved so defeated, so not himself, and knowing that it was me who had done it to him, just made it all the worse.

You were supposed to support and protect the person you love. You did everything in your power to make them feel better, and they were your number one priority in everything you did. Somewhere down the line, I had let him slip. I had put myself, my selfishness, first, and now I was reaping what I had sowed.

“He found out about Gerard,” I finally whispered, cringing.

“Last one to know, I see,” Frank giggled bitterly.

“I see,” Nina spoke carefully.

I could see she was thinking quickly, yet carefully.

“Okay,” she spoke slowly, “first off, the fact that the two of you came here is a good sign. I can see that there’s a lot of anger, but being able to put it aside for long enough to come here, shows that you both aren’t ready to give up on your relationship yet. That’s very positive.”

I clung onto her words. For once, I felt like Nina was finally speaking words that I could fully get behind.

“May I ask what your current…arrangement is? Are you still living together? What’s your situation as of now?”

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” Frank answered.

“So, you’re still in the same apartment?” Nina asked, receiving a nod from both of us in response.

“I’ll be upfront. I think space would be a good thing for the two of you right now. In situations like these, there tends to be a lot of anger on both sides. It can lead to an escalation of tensions.”

“Surely we need to be in the same place to work things out?” panic engulfed me, forcing the words from my throat.

I felt a flicker of panic at Nina’s words, along with the keen stab of betrayal. She was supposed to help us, not urge us apart.

“I’m talking about space, Grace, not separation. There’s a difference. You still need to be in contact, and communicate. In most cases, a lot of couples will find that when they communicate more when apart. They have to make a conscious effort to keep in touch, and to spend time together. We listen more when we set time apart to be with a person.”

I bit my lip. But I understood her reasons. As much as I didn’t want to, I did. It made sense, in a way. It just didn’t feel right. The panic didn’t ease. Frank not being there at the end of the day, not smelling his cologne in the mornings when I wake up…how could that be right?

“How about we leave that to digest for a little while. Seeing as you are both here, now is a great time for the two of you to talk about what’s happened. Have you discussed it at all?”

“What is there to discuss? She was fucking some guy behind my back. For months.”

Franks bitterness and anger hadn’t abated in the days since he found out. I could hear it in his words. He was wounded, and humiliated.

“Have you discussed _why_ the infidelity occurred? There is never a clear black and white reason. Most people are unfaithful because they feel like their needs aren’t being met in some shape or form. That’s not to place the blame on the other party, but, it’s rarely as simple as people make it out to be.”

Frank shook his head, sitting up a little straighter, fire blazing in his eyes with anger.

“So, it’s my fault?”

“No, Frank, it’s not. That’s not what I said at all. What I said, is that, a lot of the time, there is an underlining issue in the relationship when it comes to infidelity. Whether it’s one partner questioning their role in the relationship after a baby comes along, or a change in career that changed the dynamics, or if an event from outside of the ‘couple’ causes a shift in the relationship. People change, and how we respond and communicate with our other halves can change too, only sometimes, the other person doesn’t get the memo. While there is no excuse for infidelity, there is also no one cause or blame.”

Frank, who had maintained eye contact with Nina during her little speech, was now looking at his clasped hands, which were resting on his lap. He looked like a little lost boy, and I just couldn’t look at him.

“When my parents divorced, it was one of the worst times of my life. I was only eight, and one day, my parents told me that they didn’t love each other anymore. Even then, I had an idea something was going on. My dad worked all the time, my mother was always so fucking sad when it was half past six, and he still wasn’t home. He introduced me to my future stepmom two weeks after he moved out. I was so fucking angry, not at him, but at myself. I wondered if I had done something to push him away. I acted up sometimes. I was a fucking kid, you know? I sometimes didn’t do my homework, or I would talk back. Things all children do. I always felt like it was my fault, that I wasn’t good enough. What had I done to make him want to leave? It was only later that I realised there was more to it than that, but that feeling…it never went away, not really.”

“That’s common with children of divorced parents. Is that how you feel now? That Grace’s infidelity was your fault?”

“How is it not?” Frank’s voice wavered.

“It’s not your fault, Frank. None of it was your fault.” I blurted out.

“Do you think you can explain why?” Nina asked, leaning forward.

I turned to look at Frank, who wouldn’t meet my eyes. He kept his eyes on his lap, but I knew he was listening.

“When we met, I always thought you were too good for me. And you are. You’re this fucking knight in shining armour. You loved me, when I didn’t even love myself. You gave me hope that I could be more than my past, that it didn’t control me. You were, _are_ , fucking perfect. Then, after that night…at my mother’s house…I realised that I was never going to escape it. What he did to me. I could bury it, but it was always going to come back. I wanted to be something I’m not. The thing is, I am my past. We can’t erase it, no matter how hard we try.

And I was so scared you wouldn’t believe me, about my past, or what happened that night. I had hidden it for so long, why would you? I didn’t want the image you had of me destroyed. What we had was so good, and I didn’t want that to change. Gerard… He knew from the beginning that I was broken, even before he knew why. Then we got closer, and we found out our pasts were similar, and I…I felt like I could be open with him. That he wouldn’t judge me. I could spill my guts to him in a way I couldn’t with you. You took what happened so badly, and you looked at me like a ticking time bomb. I know you were just worried, but it was so hard to be around that, to know that the person you love doesn’t trust you anymore. ”

“You really know how to make me feel small, don’t you?” Frank muttered.

“I’m trying to be honest. I’m not saying I was right to think that way. It just spiralled. He was so…earnest. He wanted to help me. He didn’t see me as a broken person. He loved me-”

I cut myself off, realising I had said too much. Frank’s head snapped up.

“Did he tell you that? That he loved you?” he asked.

Fuck, why had I said that?

“Grace, now is the time to get all these issues out of the way,” Nina interjected, when I didn’t answer.

“Yes.”

“Did you tell him you loved him back?”

“No.”

“Did you? Do you, love him?”

There was that question again. The one I really didn’t want to answer.

“I don’t know. I think I love what he represented, more than anything.”

The words felt like a lie. I didn’t know if they were – I hoped they weren’t.

“Do you still love _me_?”

“Yes.”

“I think what we need to discuss is whether you are both willing to work towards moving past this. It won’t be easy, but it can be done. It needs a committed effort, though, from both parties. If you feel like you can’t move past this, it’s time to be honest about that. A relationship can’t survive if the aggrieved party isn’t able, or willing, to put the infidelity behind them. Are you capable of forgiving?”

I waited for Frank to answer. The ball was in his court right then–the fate of our future was firmly with him, and whether he could truly forgive what I had done.

“I think I can try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what are you guys thinking? I always love to hear your thoughts and opinions.
> 
> Also, from next chapter on, the story is going to take a bit of a turn...I'm half excited, half terrified for you guys to see what's in store.
> 
> Comments, subscriptions and kudos are awesome. Thanks to everybody who reads and comments, you guys are awesome.
> 
> Lyra xxx


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, long time no update. I had a very bad case of writer's block and a no confidence in anything I wrote. Since last week, I've managed to start writing gain, and actually like what I've written. I can't promise it will last but I hope I'm back to my old writer self. I fully plan on finishing this, and any other story I'm currently writing.   
> If you were reading this before and have come back, thank you.

Stay with me 

Chapter 28

  
  


It had been two weeks since Frank had said he was willing to try to forgive me. They were probably the longest two weeks of my life. There was still a lot of tension that seemed to permeate the apartment, seeping into every fabric of it.,  I expected this, of course, Frank was still angry, He said it with every word he spoke to me, and every time he looked at me. I was on eggshells the entire time, wondering if he was going to suddenly tell me he had done enough ‘trying’ and was going to leave. I was scared that my world was going to suddenly be pulled from under my feet even more than it already had been. There was so much anger, no, rage, coming from Frank that I began to see why Nina had said for us to get some space from each other. Part of almost wished he would just tell me to leave already, and end the suffering for both of us. It couldn’t be healthy, to live in a such a small space with no room to breathe, no way to escape the hostility that had become part of our lives. I was beginning to wonder if Frank could truly forgive me. 

 

I was slowly coming to resent the anger. I knew I had fucked up, and I was doing my best to put things right. I hadn’t spoken to Gerard, despite the many voicemails he left. I had stopped listening to them, but I still couldn’t bring myself to block Gerard’s number. I was being selfish, not doing anything to stop him from contacting me. Part of me needed to know that he still wanted me, that I had meant something to him. It meant that the shit that I was going through with Frank, the constant feeling of being the lowest of the low, was worth it. As awful as it was, I needed to know that if things fell apart with Frank, that maybe there was still a chance with Gerard, if he could ever forgive me for what I’d done.

I was doing all I could to be the best girlfriend possible. I was coming home from work earlier, to prove I wasn’t going anywhere I shouldn’t be. I took Frank with me to see Nina, so he could vent too. And boy, he did vent. It crushed me to know just what I had done to him, that I had turned him from the sweetest guy I had ever known, to a person who was only seemed to feel anger and sadness. I cried in the few moments of alone time I got when I showered. I was angry with Frank, and myself. I hated that I felt so sorry for myself, when I had created the cluterfuck I was currently in.  I was trying to take responsibility for it, by not letting those feelings show.  I took the cold stares and silence from Frank, and the hurtful words and glares when he needed to vent. I held back the words that were dying to leave my lips, the ones that would only serve to crush Frank even more. I knew that it wouldn’t make me feel better in the end, if I said them. Maybe in the moment it would; it might give me the satisfaction I needed, take some of the hurt and self hate I felt and throw it away but, in the end, I knew it wouldn’t serve any other purpose and would only weaken our already fragile truce.

 

Eventually, after a week, Frank seemed to have calm down. His mood stabilised, though now he just radiated sadness. I wanted to comfort him, make him feel better. I tried to make him laugh, I left little notes for him that told him all the reasons why I loved him, but that didn’t work. He would just throw them in the trash, as though the words meant nothing to him. I let him hog the remote, which was no small gesture from me when Vampire Diaries was on. All I wanted was to know that we would be okay, even  if it took time. But with each passing day, I was less and less sure how much Frank’s heart was in it. We were talking, but it felt empty. I wanted him to reassure me that this was all worth, that he could let me back into his heart eventually. That was all I wanted, but it seemed more impossible every day. I was ready for the hard work, and I knew it would do me good to start putting work into our relationship again but, as Nina had pointed out, it takes two people to want to make a relationship work. The fact that Frank was still here was about the only thing that gave me any consolation, and hope.  

 

I was alone in the sitting room when my phone rang. Frank was going to be late tonight, he had actually text me to let me know, something I took as a good sign. I hoped that it was indicator that the ice was thawing between us. I didn’t need to see who it was, but it was instinct to look at the screen as soon as I heard the vibration on the coffee table. ‘Gerard’ flashed up on the screen. My heart began to thump wildly, my palms were already damp with panicked sweat. I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I answered the phone. Would Gerard want me to answer? What would he say? Would he just leave it at one last conversation? I wondered if I was denying him closure with my refusal to answer him. Did I owe it to him to let him vent, if that’s what he needed? I wasn’t sure how to feel about how I’d left things with Gerard.

 

There were so many emotions that came up when I thought about him. I felt guilt the keenest. There was sadness, and regret, about how things had started and ended. The self loathing was always there too, in the background. I wondered if he was still drinking himself into a stupor, or was he pulling himself together? I knew I wasn’t worth the pain he was going through, and though it hurt to think of him with someone else, I hoped he’d find someone else who could give him what I couldn’t. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel the way I did, and the guilt that chewed away at my insides would disappear. 

 

My thumb lingered over the green icon on the screen, my mind debating if I should finally give into the incessant calls. I didn’t know what to expect when I answered.

 

“Hello” my voice was soft, and I cringed at the nervousness that was there.

 

“Grace?” he was surprised I answered, that much was obvious. 

 

“Gerard, this needs to stop,” the words were coming out automatically, nerves making me talk before my brain was fully engaged, “The calls, the voicemails...they need to stop.”

 

“I just want to talk Grace, I think I deserve that much, don’t you? After everything...you owe me that much. I’m not just a toy you can throw away now that you don’t want to play with me anymore.”

 

He was drunk. His words were slurred, and almost hollow. It didn’t sound like Gerard, the one who always had some kind of emotion in his voice when he spoke. He didn’t hide what he felt, and it was one of the things I loved most about him. I felt unsure how to even talk to this Gerard, the man who sounded so alien.

 

“What’s left to say?” I ignored the insult behind his words. 

 

“You never gave me a chance, a real chance. Tell me, are you any happier with Frank now? Are things a bed of roses now that I’m out of the picture?”

 

I bit my lip. No, things weren’t any better. Things were far from okay, but I couldn’t tell him that. It would only serve to make him think that he was right about Frank not making me happy anymore. He didn’t need to know that Frank had found out about us.  I guess I took too long to answer him, and the seconds it took for me to think out an answer.

 

“Just what I thought,” he sneered. “Did you tell him about us,Grace? How we use to screw each other’s brains out? That you told me things you could never tell him? That you didn’t have to hide who you were when we were together? Hhmm?”

 

A flood of memories came back to me. The days that we would just cuddle on his couch, in his apartment that always smelled of paint and coffee, and talk about our past. How his arms had felt strong, and safe. How he never made me feel bad about myself, or that I had to hide. I could show him the worse of myself, and he just accepted it as part of who I was. He saw how selfish I could be, and he still wanted me. He never cut me out, like Frank was doing now. I didn’t have to hate myself when we were together.  I knew that he would never hurt me the way Frank was now. Gerard would never punish me, whether I deserved it or not.

 

“Does it matter? This... us, it’s over. You need to accept it,” the words hurt as I spoke them. I realised that part of me didn’t want it to be. I wanted to hold on to him. I knew I couldn’t though. It wouldn’t be fair to him, not when he could hurt himself because of me. He didn’t deserve to have such a shitty person in his life. Not when he was battling his own demons.

 

“If it’s really over, then it shouldn’t be too hard to come over and talk it out then.” His tone was demanding.

 

“That’s not a good idea, Gerard” I knew I sounded exasperated, but I didn’t know how to process everything that was swimming around in my mind. I didn’t want to admit that part of me just wanted to be in his arms, take the comfort I  knew he would offer, if I asked.

 

“Just, I need to see you one last time. Grace, please” his voice catched on the last word. It broke down the last of resolve. Gerard had never asked for much of me, could I really deny him this?  

 

“Okay. I’ll come over, but just to talk.”

 

With that, I hung up before I could change my mind. It was six now; Frank wouldn’t be home until eight thirty at least. I was enough time for Gerard to say what he needed to say. I didn’t change from my old tshirt and jeans. I just grabbed my coat and keys, and left the apartment.

 

It was cold. I hugged my coat closer to me as I walked. I felt a sense of dread, that was mingling with the butterflies that were going haywire. Part of me sensed that it was a bad idea to do it. There was a strange kind of nausea that was making my stomach clench, and my skin was all goosebumps and standing hairs. I tried to push it to the back of my mind.  I had nothing to be afraid of. 

 

It didn’t take long to get to his apartment.  I pressed the buzzer for his apartment. I heard the static of the intercom, but he didn’t speak. Instead, there was the click of the door releasing, and I pushed the heavy door to enter the building. The sick dread in my stomach was increasing with every step I took. I shouldn’t have been so nervous, but my gut was telling me something wasn’t right. It was stupid; I had nothing to fear. 

 

I knocked on the apartment door. It felt like a millennium had passed in the 10 seconds it took him to answer the door. I didn’t know which Gerard to expect - the drunk one, in clothes he’d been wearing for days who would stink of beer, or the Gerard I knew, who would at least look somewhat together.  I was happily surprised when he opened the door. He had clean clothes on. His eyes were bloodshot though, and his hair was wet, which meant he had just showered. I could smell alcohol from the second he opened the door- even a shower couldn’t disguise the stench.

 

“Come in” he opened the door wide, and walked back into the sitting room. I followed him, the uneasy feeling in my stomach only growing. 

 

There was still paint everywhere when I entered the sitting room. He was still painting, I could see the canvas had fresh paint on it,something I was thankful for. He was still working hopefully, if he was able to still paint. The apartment looked the same as the last time I was there, with one glaring difference. There were opened beer cans on the coffee table, and an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. He hadn’t felt the  need to hide the extent of his drinking from me. I’m certain he wanted me to see it, wanted me to know the extent of the damage he was doing to himself. I swallowed as guilt and sadness overwhelmed me. If his intention was for me to feel bad about myself, he was certainly winning.

 

“Want a drink?” Gerard asked, watching me take in the site in front of my eyes. I knew then, that he knew exactly what he was doing.

 

“No, I’m fine” I managed to get the words out, though my throat was suddenly dry. 

 

I was met with silence. I waited for him to say something, my eyes taking in his features. His face was slimmer than the last time I’d seen him, probably from lack of food. The thought made my stomach twist uncomfortably. His face was a greyish sort of pale, and the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced than I had ever seen them. I felt uncomfortable, being in his presence. He was the living manifestation of the terrible things I had done. He was forcing me to see the full extent of the pain and destruction I had caused. He was everything I was trying to hide from. 

 

“Why did you ask me here if you’re just going to stare at me?”  The unease I felt was making me impatient. Now that I was here, confronted with the cold stare that Gerard was giving me, made me want to leave. There was nothing in his eyes, they were vacant. It scared me, to see a man who lived by his passions, to lose the light that was always behind his eyes. Was it my fault? I knew it was. 

 

“What, I can’t look at you now? Is that another one of the things I’m no longer allowed to do? You never minded me looking at you when we were in bed.” 

 

“I didn’t come here for an argument, Gerard. You said you wanted to talk, so talk. If you want to shout at me, call me names, then fine. Just get it over and done with.”

 

An eerie smile took over the straight line of his lips. He scoffed a little.

 

“That would make you feel better, wouldn’t it, sugar? I’m not going to feed into the martyr you want to be. Poor Grace, the girl who wanted to have her cake and eat, never mind everyone else. It’s one thing we’re good at, being victims. Thing is, we never stop being one, do we? We carry it with us, like an infection that won’t leave the blood. We thrive on being miserable, because it’s only thing we know. We want the hurt, we want the pain. Makes us feel a bit human again, like we have a place in the world. The pain makes us who we are.”

 

Gerard was rambling. He wasn’t really talking to me, as much as he was talking  _ at _ me. I was a sounding board, letting him get the venom out of his system.

 

“Alcohol used to numb the pain for me, it worked for so many years. Just keep drinking, until I blacked out or ended up in hospital. I  didn’t mind which. It’s not working so well anymore.”

 

His face softened, and suddenly the vacant look was gone. His eyes widened, as though he finally looking at me and seeing me. 

 

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he continued,  “Every fucking second of the day, all I think about is you. It doesn’t matter how much I drink, or what pills I take to black out. Fuck, even when I’m asleep, you’re haunting my dreams. You were everything to me, Grace. All I wanted was you. I didn’t ask for anything of you, never demanded anything. Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

I couldn’t stop the tears that welled up, threatening to spill onto my cheeks. He looked so lost, so broken, and all I wanted was to give him some comfort. I wanted to take him into my arms and keep him safe, stop him from hurting himself anymore. Looking at him, I wished I had never spoken to him in that waiting room. I wished that he had never met me, that he had never been unfortunate enough to have me walk into his life. Both of our lives would have been better for it.

 

“It’s not about you being good enough Gerard. I’m just not good for you, can’t you see that? Fuck, from day one I’ve taken more than I could ever give to you. Why don’t you see that?”

 

“You’re wrong. You gave me the only thing I needed. You understood me. You were the one good thing I had, Grace”

 

I shook my head. I needed him to see me, to destroy the pedestal he had put me on. I needed to get rid of his notion that I was going to come back to him. I had to put the final nail in the figurative coffin that was our short lived relationship. 

 

“You didn’t have me Gerard. You never did. Are you really that naive?”

 

“Fuck that, you know what we have is real. If you didn’t care about me you wouldn’t be here right now. You still love me, I can see it.”

 

I was about to deny his words, and put an end to the conversation that wasn’t going to go anywhere fast, when he moved. He closed the distance between us, and pulled me to him. Before I could do or say anything, his lips were on mine. It wasn’t like the millions of  kisses we had before; there was no love behind this. Only anger. I could taste the beer off his lips, a taste I found repulsive. I put my hands on his chest to push him away, but he only tightened his grip on me, his arms tight around my waist. 

“Gerard, stop!”  I turned my face from his, but he didn’t let me go. Instead, he focused his attention on my neck.

 

I could feel the panic begin the rise, stirring from my chest. I was forcing myself to breathe, and pushed my hands against his chest. I tried to push him away, but even in his current state, he was stronger than me. He didn’t remove his lips from my neck.  He only pulled me closer with one arm, and without warning, his other hand wandered inside my underwear. There  was no pleasure when his fingers penetrated me. I tried to move, and pushed again, but it was as though he wasn’t really there,

 

“Gerard, stop! I repeated, the fear evident in voice. 

 

He didn’t listen. My breaths went from not existing, to short, fast breaths that weren’t pulling in the oxygen I needed. A fear I hadn’t felt since my last encounter with Nick was tingling all over my skin, and like so many years, I was paralyzed by it. It was deja vu, only this time it was someone I trusted who was violating me. Someone who had known the pain of having their consent taken away, was now inflicting it.

 

“Gerard, please” I somehow strangled out.

 

Gerard stopped, the change in my voice registering with him. His hand stilled, and in a flash he he no longer touching me. He had backed away, his expression suddenly shocked and he realised what he was doing. I knew he had scared himself, but that didn’t do anything to ease how violated I felt. Whatever trust I had before, had been lost the second he ignored my right to say no.

 

I didn’t wait for him to say anything else.  I did what I did best, and ran out of his apartment without looking back.

  
  



End file.
